For What It's Worth, It Was Worth All the While
by runninginplace
Summary: A new perspective on Brittana's story. Love, friendship, and everything in between. Warning: M to be on the safe side, for mentions of physical abuse, and swearing. Mentions of sexytimes also.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys, so this is definitely a less than traditional view on Brittana, but it's also something that I hadn't seen anywhere else and have wanted to try for awhile. I always thought the Quinntana friendship was never taken enough advantage of in Glee, but I liked the idea of Santana having a no-nonsense best friend (that she wasn't sleeping with) that understood her really well, and that could help her through some stuff when she needed it. I didn't really want to recycle a Glee character, because they'd bring their own characteristics with them, and I wanted someone I could make my own. Santana really intrigues me as a character, and this story will primarily focus on her, her relationship with Brittany, and her friendship with the new girl. If anyone else is like me, and is feeling a little nostalgia for the old Glee, this will hopefully also be for you...I wanted to tell the Brittana story from the (sort of) beginning, from a different perspective, and give Santana someone to lean on, because I kind of hate angst when it comes to love. Life is hard enough without making fiction hard too. That being said, no story is fun to read if it's all happy all the time, and there will be angst in this story, as well as triggers for physical abuse. You are warned. This is probably the longest author's note I'm going to write, I promise, and you get a pat on the back if you've made it through the whole thing. I have a general story arc in mind, though if you all have ideas, comments, or suggestions, a review will make my day. Make sure it's constructive criticism though. No flat out hating. Ain't nobody got time for that. Okay, now I'm done. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

Samantha Pearson looked up at the large red letters that arched in a sign over the doorway of her new school.

_Welcome to McKinley High School! Home of the Titans!_

She took a deep breath, and pushed open the glass double doors of the front entrance. She was supposed to find the front office to get her schedule, and then somehow she had to find her first class amongst all this chaos. She had walked in right as the bell rang for a class change, and there were teenagers everywhere, talking, laughing, yelling…and Sam was nervous already.

One of the obvious problems with transferring schools after the beginning of the semester was that everyone else had already made friends and grouped up. The cliques were established, the hierarchy built, and she just _knew_ that everyone would be watching to see where she was placed. At her old school, Crawford Country Day, things had been much less…judgmental. Every girl did what they enjoyed, and were good at, and no one even blinked. In fact, the whole diversity thing was celebrated. Sam didn't think it would be quite as simple here.

As she turned the corner to go into the door marked "Front Office," she slammed directly into someone carrying a huge stack of paper…which promptly went flying everywhere.

"Shit. I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention and – " she began, but the other girl interrupted her.

"Please, it was entirely my fault. I was quizzing myself on the names of Tony Award winning actresses from 1960-1979, and it seems I allowed myself to become so distracted I ran into you. Please accept my apologies."

"Um…" Sam said as she bent down to help the girl pick up the paper, which turned out to be pages of sheet music. "Any particular reason you needed to know that information?"

"Well, I received a less than exemplary grade on an exam this morning, and when I get depressed, I remind myself of inspirational Broadway singers who have accomplished everything I one day dream of accomplishing. I had just completed 1940-1959 without incident, so therefore it was only natural that I move onto 1960-1979." the girl replied, as if it were the most logical explanation in the world.

"Right..." Sam said, chuckling. The girl was a little eager, but she seemed nice enough. "Um, well, I'm Samantha Pearson. Call me Sam. It's nice to meet you." She held out her hand.

"Rachel Berry" said the girl, her face lighting up. "It's very nice to meet you as well. Are you new?"

"Uh, yeah. I just transferred. From Crawford County Day."

"Dalton Academy's all-girl sister school?" She asked, surprised.

"Is that weird?"

"Well…no. I just don't think that if I went to a school like Crawford, I'd end up switching to public school. Especially not McKinley. It's a fine school and all, but…what made you switch?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably. _That_ was certainly not something she wanted to talk about yet, no matter how nice Rachel Berry was. "Uh, you know…parents. Work." Well, it wasn't _entirely _a lie.

Rachel nodded, as if this made perfect sense. "Well it was very nice to meet you Sam, but I really do have to go practice now. If I don't practice in the choir room during my free period at least 4 times a week, my vocal chords will get terribly out of shape. I'll see you around!" And with that, she was gone in a whirl of long brown hair and sheet music.

Sam shook her head. The girl certainly had character. Not really her type though… _Right. Office. Have to get my schedule. _

One extremely short conversation with the receptionist later, she was holding a piece of paper that read "3rd period. 9:30-10:15. English III. Room A213. Sam checked her watch. 9:25. She had 5 minutes and she had absolutely no idea where this room was. "You'd think they'd attach a map or something to the new student handbook." she muttered under her breath. "50 pages of obvious shit like 'No nudity on school grounds' and not a single goddamn thing about a map."

As she turned the corner, she heard a yelp and a chorus of laughter. She looked down the hall to the source of the noise, where a lean, effeminate-looking boy wearing checkered pants was standing in shock, mouth open, and covered from head to toe in…_Slushie?_ He was surrounded by members of the football team sporting their letter jackets. One jock who was bigger than the rest, held an empty cup and sported a stupid grin.

"Don't wear those homo pants again, Hummel. We don't like that faggot shit here." The jock said, as his cohorts laughed again. They all moved away in a pack, leaving the Hummel boy dripping green ice and shivering. Sam rolled her eyes at the scene, heading over to see if the kid was okay.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked, offering him a tissue pack she had in her backpack. "Guys like that make me sick. I bet he was totally just jealous of your pants."

The boy chuckled weakly, wiping his eyes with the tissues. "Oh, I'm sure that's what it was. My fabulous fashion sense."

"Definitely. Not many people could pull off those pants, and you, my friend, are one of them."

"Well thank you. Kurt Hummel." He said, extending a somewhat sticky hand.

"Samantha Pearson. Call me Sam."

"First day?"

"Yeah. Attempting to find my English class. Failing miserably."

"Who do you have?"

"…Wilson?"

"Oh, here, I have biology next period. My classroom's right next to yours. Let me get cleaned up and I'll walk you." He said with a smile.

"Great, thanks!" she replied. 5 minutes later, Kurt was Slushie-free, sporting a brand new blazer complete with a hippo broach that he had somehow pulled out of nowhere. "So…are Slushies the traditional method of torture in this school?" she asked as they walked towards class.

"It is for the unpopular. The bourgeoisie, the great unwashed. Keep your rep up girl, or you'll join the masses. Come to think of it, you might not want to be seen with me. Loserdom transfers."

"Nah, I'll take my chances. If only to be seen with someone with such excellent fashion sense. Because clearly, I have none." She joked. He eyed her worn leather jacket, faded All-American Rejects t-shirt, ripped jeans, and black Converses. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

"You have potential." He said appraisingly. "But that's your classroom right there. I'll see you around. Good luck!"

Sam waved goodbye to Kurt and turned to face the doorway.

_Here we go_, she thought, and walked into her English classroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So, I'm on kind of a roll here (and totally not studying for my finals like I should be) and am just going to keep putting these chapters out there. The first few chapters of this story are there to provide background, but I promise everything will pick up soon. Please review so I know people are interested. Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

"Ms. Pearson!"

Sam looked up at elderly Mrs. Wilson, who was standing in front of the chalkboard expectantly. She had been placed, (alphabetically, of course) next to a tall blonde cheerleader that was currently drawing a very interesting picture of a cat riding a unicorn on her notebook. The drawing had currently captured her attention, much to the displeasure of the teacher. "Yes ma'am?"

"Perhaps you would care to answer the current question?"

"He's lonely."

"Excuse me?"

"Gatsby. He's spent his entire life trying to create this new persona for himself, but he befriended Carraway because he's lonely. All the high society people he associates with only like him for his money."

Mrs. Wilson stood there for a minute, then glared at Sam because she was technically correct. "Please pay more attention in the future to the lesson at hand, Ms. Pearson." She said sharply, and turned to face the board again, filling in the word 'loneliness' in the chart that she had drawn next to the word 'Gatsby'.

"Now she's going to hate you." Sam turned to face the cheerleader next to her, who was still drawing, but who had apparently witnessed the exchange nonetheless.

"Oh yeah? Why? I got the answer right."

The cheerleader exchanged a green pen for a red one, and began to give the cat a pair of rain boots. "'Cause Mrs. Wilson likes being able to tell people what to do. And you showed her that she doesn't have to do that with you. She likes me 'cause I'm stupid." Sam noticed that as she said this, the girl's shoulders sank. Just a little, but enough to notice.

"Well, I dunno about that. You just gave your cat rain boots. That doesn't seem stupid to me. People never give their cats rain boots. What are they supposed to do if it rains?"

At this, the girl looked up. She had big blue eyes that looked intently at Sam's face, trying to see if she was making fun of her. When she realized that Sam was in fact serious, she broke into an ear-splitting grin. "I know, right?! When Lord Tubbington goes out into the rain, I always make him wear little zip-lock bags on his feet to keep them dry. I don't want him to get athlete's foot. Though I haven't figured out yet how to keep his claws from making holes in them." Her face turned serious and thoughtful. Sam grinned.

* * *

The rest of the day went by quickly. She quickly learned that the rest of the cheerleaders (_are they really called Cheerios?_) were not as nice as the girl who sat next to her in English. (Sam later found out her name was Brittany.) Her history class contained three of them, one of whom who seemed to be more in charge than the rest. She had long black hair, tan skin, and a confident smirk that said 'Honey, I know _all_ of your secrets. Stay on my good side.' Her name was Santana Lopez, Sam knew. She had asked the boy that sat next to her about the Latina, and the way the boy cringed in fear made Sam think that perhaps she would stay away from that particular Cheerio.

Gym too, reminded her of the social hierarchy that was painfully obvious here. She had ended up in the same class as Quinn Fabray, a blonde, hazel-eyed Head Cheerio that seemed even more manipulative and bitchy than Santana, if that were even possible. She was another one to stay away from. Sam did allow herself to indulge in a bit of fun though, when they went outside to run the mile. As they started their first lap, Sam noticed herself falling into step with Quinn. They didn't look at each other, nor say a word, but Quinn slowly began lengthening her strides to pull out in front of Sam. _Well. Why the hell not? _She thought, and moved to catch up with Quinn. Slowly, Sam became the leader. Not one to be outdone, Quinn reciprocated. Then Sam, then Quinn again. By the time they reached the last leg of their final lap, the two girls were neck and neck. Only at the last second did Sam think, _Better not upset the Queen Bee, _and slowed her pace so that Quinn won by a few inches. Both girls sat on the bleachers, sweating and panting until their breathing slowed, and although neither said a word, Quinn did meet her eyes and give her a brief nod before she got up and walked back toward the building.

* * *

After a shower, Sam found herself in band rehearsal for the last period of the day. She was in the band at Crawford, but was a little concerned at what McKinley's would be like. Her primary instrument was the trumpet, but she learned to play the piano from her mother when she was 7, and her guitar had been a source of entertainment since she was 10. She played both of these when she had free time. Rehearsal went much better than she had imagined, and after everyone was almost ready to leave, her director called her name. "Ms. Pearson, could I speak to you for a minute?"

She walked over to the aging director, Mr. Greene. He was tall, African-American, and had a fatherly smile that she instantly felt safe with. "Yes sir?"

"You said you played the guitar and piano, correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Well I had a question for you. Actually, several questions. Firstly, would you like to join the jazz band here? It's an excellent group, and I think you'd really enjoy it."

"Oh, yeah, definitely. Great."

"Excellent. And as for my other question, I was wondering if you would be interested in helping out the Glee club."

"Um…there's a reason I'm in band, sir. I can't sing. Like, at all." Sam said hesitantly.

The director chuckled. "No, no, nothing like that. I was wondering if you would be interested in playing one of your various instruments for them. Mr. Schuester emailed me and asked if I had any students that could play piano for them when their piano man isn't there, and any students that could play instruments in their band during rehearsal. They're short a few players this year."

"Oh…yeah. I could totally do that. When do they meet?"

"After school. I'll have him contact you."

"Sweet. Thanks Mr. G. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Absolutely, have a good night, Sam."

"You too, Mr. G."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This chapter's short. And a little dark. You'll get all of Sam's story soon, though, I promise. And this will be the only non-Glee connected chapter. Again, more back story.**

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

"Dad? I'm home!"

Sam walked through the door of the tiny bungalow she and her father shared. Well actually, calling it a bungalow was being nice. It was kind of a shack.

"Dad?"

She didn't really expect him to answer, he'd been coming home really late recently, and when he did, he certainly wasn't sober. He'd stagger in around 4 in the morning, collapse into bed, and then sleep until 2, when he'd head to the bar to start the process again.

He hadn't always been like this. It had only started after the accident. About a month after the funeral, she had come home from school to find him passed out on the floor smelling like Jack Daniels. She'd woken him up, helped him into bed, and been there with asprin in the morning. Then it happened the next week. And the next. Soon it became 2 times a week, then 4, then she was waking up every night at 4am to let her father stumble inside. The school therapist, who she had been assigned mandatory once a week sessions with by the school, said that everyone dealt with grief differently. This was her father's way of dealing with it. It would pass.

But then he'd started to hit her.

That had started about a month into the drinking. One night when she was tired of being his babysitter, she had made a comment about how her mother had been a much better parent….

And he had slapped her across the face.

They both looked at each other in shock, he had never so much as spanked her before. He had sobered up pretty quickly, hugged her, apologized, promised it would never happen again.

And she believed him.

Until it did.

A week later, the same thing happened. Slowly, a slap became a punch, and one punch became a dozen. Not to the face, he was smarter than that, but she had more bruises on her torso than she could count.

That was something she never told the therapist.

He didn't hit her every night, and she had become pretty good at keeping him happy, and explaining away bruises when he accidentally did make them in visible places, but she was desperate to get away from him.

When she was at Crawford, before the accident, before everything, they hadn't been rich, per se, but they were pretty well off. Gorgeous house on the nice side of town, complete with a garden for the kids to play in. Sam was going to Crawford, which was decently expensive, but her parents still managed to get her a car for her 16th birthday. After her father started drinking, he started going to work less and less. He had been a part of the Crawford county police force for 20 years, so they cut him some slack. But eventually, they had to let him go. The loss of his job caused him to drink even more, and soon Sam had to get a job over at the local restaurant to support them. Soon, however, it was all too much, and they had had to sell the house, Sam had to leave Crawford, and they moved to Lima, the only place that had a house they could afford. It was in Lima Heights Adjacent, a sketchier part of town, which, all things considered, was not a place Sam would have even glanced at a year ago. _How things change, _she thought.

Satisfied that her father wouldn't be home for a good while, Sam grabbed some chips, (_I seriously need to buy groceries)_ flopped down on the couch and started her homework. She had gotten a job at Breadstix upon her arrival, but she didn't have to work till 6. She had practice with the jazz band first thing in the morning, and then had her first Glee rehearsal tomorrow afternoon. She considered today a successful day. She was a little concerned about getting slushied, because all the people she seemed to get along with today had all been slushied at least once, but on the other hand, she seemed to get along with Brittany just fine, so maybe that would help a little.

At lunch, she had seen Brittany linking pinkies with Santana Lopez, which to Sam, seemed like the weirdest combination ever. Brittany was rainbows and sunshine and honestly the nicest person she'd ever met in her entire life. Santana….well, let's just say that Sam had seen her make 3 senior boys cry within 10 minutes of lunch starting. Although, to be fair, they had called Brittany stupid. So they kind of deserved it. That was another lesson she had learned today. No one insulted Brittany upon pain of death-by-Santana. The bitchy remarks and attitude aside, she seemed to honestly care about the other girl. So maybe she just had a lot going on under the surface.

Sam sighed as she glanced at the clock. _Don't we all._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: And now we get into the good stuff. Chapters will be much more plot-centric from here on out.**

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

Over the next few weeks, Sam found her groove at McKinley. She would rehearse with the jazz band in the morning, (which was made up of some pretty cool people), go to school, and have Glee in the afternoon. That was always an experience. She started to recognize faces from the choir room rehearsals in some of her classes too. At her first Glee rehearsal, she was happy to see Kurt there, along with Rachel Berry (She had quickly found out that being friends with Rachel was akin to carrying a communicable disease, but Sam had never been one to let stuff like that affect her. So she decided to be friendly to the girl and let the Slushies fall where they may. The girl was nice, if a bit annoying.). Mike Chang was in her English class with her and Brittany, and Mercedes Jones was in her Biology class. She generally ate lunch with the band kids, but waved to the Glee kids if she saw them in the hallway. Well, the Glee kids minus Quinn and Santana.

Quinn and Sam repeated the running ritual every day during gym, and after a few class periods, Sam had started to win a few times. They kept this routine religiously, but neither girl ever spoke a word to the other.

Sam was pretty sure Santana didn't even know she existed. Well, apart from the other day when she caught her staring at her. Admittedly, she could have been staring at Jacob Ben-Israel who (unfortunately) sat next to her, but Sam found that unlikely, given that every time she looked at JBI, her nostrils flared and her shoulders tensed. Which they were currently not doing. Either way, Sam thought it prudent to not wave in the hallway whenever she passed.

One Tuesday in November, Sam was in English class, when Mrs. Wilson handed back a paper that they had written. Sam got an A-, which was a lot better than she was expecting, considering she wrote it on a night that her dad decided she would make a good punching bag. She turned to Brittany, who was holding a D- -, (Sam didn't even know that grade existed) on a paper that seemed to be written in a language that Sam didn't recognize.

"Shit dude. She got a D minus minus? What a fucking retard. She's so stupid." The boy behind them had whispered, but Brittany had definitely heard it. And so did Sam.

"Hey look, _assface_, I get that you're uglier than a troll, and judging by the way your paper is lying face down on your desk, I'd assume you didn't get such a good grade either. So you're clearly an idiot. But call Brittany stupid one more time and I will _guarantee _you won't have kids. And then I'll tell Santana Lopez you called Brittany stupid." The boy blanched visibly and slunk down in his seat, while Brittany smiled widely at Sam.

"Thanks, Sam."

"Don't mention it" she said with a shrug.

* * *

Later that day, Sam was in the bathroom when she heard two girls come in. She could see the white cheerleading shoes under the door of the stall she was in, and when one of them spoke, she recognized Madison Santos, another junior who she knew was gunning for Santana's position of Quinn's right hand girl.

"She's just, such a bitch, you know? And so full of herself. I could do her job ten times better than she could." There was silence in response, and Sam pictured Madison's friend Chelsea, who followed Madison around like a puppy, to be nodding eagerly in support. "Well. I'll show her. Let's see how much Sylvester likes her when I tell her that her precious little _señorita_ has been binging on pizza every weekend."

"Wait, really? She has?" came Chelsea's voice.

Madison scoffed. "No, idiot. We're just going to tell her she has. Duh. Maybe I'll photoshop something…."

"Oh my God, totally. You're soooooo smart, Madison."

Sam pictured Madison's smug grin. "Damn straight. Alright. Let's go, girl. My makeup's still perfect. As usual." The door thudded soundly as the two girls left the bathroom.

Sam started thinking as she washed her hands. No, Santana wasn't a nice person, but 1, if Sam was in her place, she'd want someone to tell her what Madison was plotting, and 2, if Santana got demoted because Sylvester was mad at her, she'd go on a warpath, everyone in school would have to deal with Mad Santana, and she was pretty sure that not even Brittany could calm that storm.

So that day, after history class, Sam purposefully knocked Santana's books on the floor so she wouldn't leave right away.

"What the fuck? You got a problem new girl? Why don't you watch where the hell you're going?"

"I'm really sorry, that was totally my fault. Here, let me." Sam bent over and picked up Santana's books as the classroom emptied. As the last student left, she handed the stack of books to the cheerleader.

"Damn right it was your fault. Watch where you're going next time." She turned to leave, but stopped at the sound of Sam's voice.

"Madison Santos."

"Excuse me?" Santana said, turning around.

"Madison Santos. She's…less than pleased that you have the job she wants, so she's going to photoshop a picture of you breaking Sylvester's diet rules."

Santana's face first displayed confusion, then irritation. "_Perra_! I knew I should have kept an eye on her. I'm _so_ gonna go all Lima Heights on her ass!"

Before Santana went storming out into the hallway, Sam spoke up, "If I might make a suggestion?"

Santana turned back to Sam, her face confused again. "Uh, what?"

"Given that if you smack her down in the middle of the hallway, you're more likely to get in trouble than to achieve anything, I have another idea. Play her game. Share information that she'd rather be kept private."

Santana crossed her arms. "Such as?"

Sam thought for a minute, then grinned as she remembered what she had accidently walked in on in the bathroom of Breadstix the other day. "Such as I'm pretty sure Toni Anderson, her best friend, wouldn't exactly be thrilled to know that she was hooking up with Chad Campbell in the bathroom of Breadstix last week. Aren't they dating?"

Santana slowly smiled and gave Sam an approving nod. "You're a manipulative little bitch, aren't you?"

"Do my best."

"Well. Sounds like Ms. Madison Santos is about to get what's coming to her." Santana turned and went towards the door. At the last minute, she turned around and looked long and hard at Sam. She opened her mouth like she was about to say something, and then turned and walked away.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This is Santana's story too, so we're going to hear from her more. Now we know more about Sam, the two girls are going to have an equal role in narration.**

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

Santana had done exactly as Sam had suggested, and Madison was no longer causing her problems. She did, however, want to know exactly who had told Santana about her indiscretion, and given that Sam was the only McKinley kid who worked at Breadstix, it didn't take her long to figure it out. Madison was furious, and Sam heard in about 1.5 days from about 6 different people that Madison was out to get revenge. While this worried her slightly, she figured she was pretty low on the social ladder anyway, so it couldn't get much worse. Besides, most of the preps she had met thus far respected her. Didn't like her necessarily, but respected her. She was the smart kid without being the nerdy kid, and the jocks all knew to sit next to her on tests. She let them cheat. Life was too short to worry about stuff like that.

She wasn't too thrilled about the idea of her old life following her here though. Rich girl from a private school mysteriously transferring had an element of intrigue to it, but it had much less intrigue when you added the drunken father, the shack she currently lived in, and all the…mess surrounding the accident. Not to mention the whole…gay thing. This was Ohio, and Sam didn't kid herself that people would 100% be not okay with it. She saw how they treated Kurt. They might be a little easier on her because she was a gay girl, and there was a weird double standard about stuff like that, but at the end of the day, she had no doubt that Madison would get everyone to think she was a freak.

Meanwhile, in history, they had just been assigned a partner project that would be a large percentage of their grade. Her partner? Santana. Their teacher had picked their names and assignment out of a hat. They were to do a presentation on the life of Alexander Hamilton. When the teacher called their names, they made brief eye contact, and then Santana went back to chatting with the Cheerio next to her. They had not spoken since the Madison incident, and Sam hadn't really expected them to. But doing an entire project together was going to be a challenge. She knew that there was no way Santana was going to want to be seen with her if she could help it, and this project was going to take at least a week. So after class, she went up to her, and again, knocked her books onto the floor.

"What the – oh. It's you." Santana said as she realized who had knocked her books to the floor. "You're really not good at this whole watching where you're going thing, are you?" She seemed irritated, but not truly angry.

Sam ignored this comment. "Look. I totally get that you have a reputation to uphold and us doing this project during study hall together is kind of out of the question. As is meeting at the library to do it. But I'm not about to get a bad grade on this project, and you can pretend like you don't care, but I know you don't want to do badly either."

"I-"

"No, let me finish. I've seen your grade in here; you're at the top of the class. So. After Cheerios practice one day, I'll come over to your house and we can work on it then. I have my own car, so you don't even have to drive with me. Sound good?"

"Uhh…sure?" Santana was a little unsure what to make of Sam. People didn't usually talk to her like that. They either thought she was a bitch, were terrified of her, or both. This girl seemed like neither applied to her.

"Sweet. This…" she paused to write a number on a sheet of paper, "Is my number. Text me whenever's good for you. My evenings are pretty much free." She handed her the paper, which Santana took wordlessly. "Let me know."

Santana nodded, and Sam walked out. _New girl's got balls, I'll give her that._

* * *

Later that day, after Cheerios practice, she was putting stuff in her locker and talking to Quinn and Brittany, when she suddenly asked, "Do either of you guys know that new girl? Sam something?"

"Pearson." Brittany immediately piped up. "I always remember it because it sounds like she's my son, which is funny. And yeah, she sits next to me in English. She's really nice. She helps me all the time and the other day she yelled at Bryce because he called me stupid."

"Wait, what?" Santana's head snapped up. "When did he call you stupid? And why did you never tell me about it?"

Brittany waved Santana's words away with a gesture of her hand. "Cause it was no big deal. You asked about Sam, remember?"

Santana relaxed a little, but made a mental note to order a Slushie on that Bryce kid tomorrow. And possibly kick him in the balls. And…wait. Back up…Brittany had said something else. "Wait, she helps you? With what?"

"Oh, all sorts of stuff. Words especially. She explains stuff way better than Mrs. Wilson does."

Santana felt a little twinge of jealousy that someone else was helping Brittany besides her, but she was still glad that Brittany had someone to rely on in that class. Wilson could be a real bitch.

"I have gym with her. We run together." This time, Quinn spoke up.

"Huh."

"She's not super popular, but people generally like her. She's apparently really smart."

Santana nodded, processing this information. "I have a History project that I'm supposed to do with her."

"That's really cool, San. Sam's awesome. And you're both really smart. You'll do great."

"Thanks, Britt. You ready to go?"

"Yup. Bye Quinn!"

"Bye, guys." Santana grabbed her cheer bag and followed Brittany out the locker room doors, and, thinking briefly, paused in the doorframe to send a quick text:

**To: Sam Pearson  
**_**So…does Thursday night work? You could come by around 7.**_

She got an answer back about 5 minutes later.

**From: Sam Pearson  
**_**Yeah, that's good. You live in the big white house in Lima Heights Adjacent, right?**_

**To: Sam Pearson  
**_**Uh, stalker much? Yes.**_

**From: Sam Pearson  
**_**Sorry. I live in LHA too…I've just seen you driving home sometimes.**_

**To: Sam Pearson  
**_**Ah. Kay. See ya then.**_

**From: Sam Pearson  
**_**Sounds good.**_

Santana got in the car to drive Brittany back to her house. At the very least, this would prove to be an interesting Thursday evening.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey guys! Quick thanks to those of you who reviewed. (an overactive imagination is never a bad thing.) Also, two important notes here. Chapters are probably going to get a bit longer. If they get excessive I'll chop em in half, but for now they're going to grow. Second thing to note is...I ship Brittana. Sam and Santana is never going to happen. Anything in this chapter that sounds like it might be heading in that direction, it's not. I promise. It's just Santana having her inner gay panic.**

**Read and Review!**

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

Thursday quickly proved that it would be as interesting as Santana had anticipated, though not in a way she'd ever expected. Thursday morning she walked into school talking to Brittany about Lord Tubbington's cigarette habit. Tubbs had apparently started smoking again, and Brittany was less than pleased. (Okay, so Santana _may_ have slipped him a pack last week as a bribe to keep him from interfering with her sweet lady kisses…but that damn cat had become such a cock block lately.) She was just about to suggest that Britt try him on the patch again when they turned the corner into the science hallway, and she was stopped midsentence by the scene before her.

The new girl, Sam, was standing at her locker, covered from head to toe in blue Slushie. She was surrounded by a group of Cheerios, led by none other than…Madison. Santana had never liked that bitch. They were laughing and Madison had a giant smirk on her face. "How does that taste?…dyke?"

Sam didn't look overly upset, though from the way she was blinking, Santana was sure that her eyes were stinging pretty badly. She casually wiped the Slushie off her face and said, "Well gee, Madison. If you had wanted to buy me a drink you could've just asked."

Santana snorted in laughter, and so did a couple of Madison's cronies…until she turned around and glared at them. They shut up instantly. Madison turned back around to glare at Sam. "You're such a freak. And now everyone knows it. People need to know what you are, especially the girls who have to _change _with you." she hissed. "Expect more where that came from." The cheerleader smiled, satisfied that her job had been completed, and turned, ponytail bouncing, as she walked away.

"That was really mean." Brittany said sadly, still staring at Sam. Santana looked at her. If this was something that made Brittany upset, it was gonna stop. Now. That wasn't even a question. Not to mention, it's not like she was friends with the girl, and she _certainly _wouldn't be seen being nice to her after today, but she seemed pretty…chill. And cool. And…she was gay? She hadn't seen that coming. Yeah, the girl wasn't exactly super girly, but she didn't scream butch either. Weren't lesbians all supposed to not shave and not wear bras and eat granola all the time? Sam seemed…normal. Santana shook her head, she didn't need to think about all that right now. She _did_, however, need to address the sad blonde standing next to her.

"Hey, Britt…it's okay, she'll be fine. She's strong enough to stand up for herself. Besides, she's gay in Ohio. Girl had to know that that was gonna be a problem." Brittany looked at her, unimpressed. Santana sighed. "Fine. Do you want me to talk to Madison?" Brittany nodded. Oh, Christ. There were the puppy dog eyes. Santana looked away quickly. "Alright, alright. I'll do it." Brittany broke into a grin.

"Thank you San!" she exclaimed, jumping up and down and wrapping her arms around the other girl.

"Yeah, yeah," Santana replied. Try as she might though, she couldn't stop the smile from creeping on her face at the blonde's actions. "Come on, you. We'll be late for 1st period."

* * *

The rest of the day passed without incident until Santana cornered Madison before practice. The other girl was recounting the morning's incidents to a pair of sophomores that followed her around, when Santana butted in.

"And then she just stood there. Serves her right. Freak."

"Actually Santos, I seem to remember her handing your sad, wanna be, pathetic, ass to you on a silver platter. Girl didn't even blink." Madison turned at the sound of Santana's voice.

"What the hell are you talking about, Lopez? She was totally humiliated. Why are you sticking up for her anyway? You got the gay too? Got a crush on our resident lesbo? Hmm?"

Santana laughed condescendingly, though there was a weird twist in her gut at Madison's words. "Actually, Santos, I don't give a rat's ass how many Slushies you throw at her. I could watch it all day. My girl Brittany though…. does." With these words, her voice dropped to a dangerously quiet level, and she got right in Madison's face. "And you know the rules about people upsetting Brittany. It. Doesn't Happen. So either you back off the freak, or you and I are going to have even more problems than we already do. I. Will. Ends. You. Got it?"

Madison stared back defiantly for a few long seconds. Every girl in the locker room was watching the exchange. Quinn stood close by, and she was visibly on alert, ready to jump in, in case Santana needed to be restrained. Finally, Madison rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She scoffed. "But I'm not changing in the same room as her. And now that everyone knows she's a dyke, I bet no one else will either."

"Just get out of my face, Santos." With another dramatic eye roll, Madison grabbed her bag and headed for the door, the sophomore girls following behind her.

Brittany came up quietly behind Santana and wordlessly slipped her hand into the brunette's. _Well. That was fun._

* * *

At exactly 7:06 pm that evening, Santana was drying her hair with a towel when there was a knock on the front door. She had gotten home from Cheerios practice in a remarkably good mood that day. After their confrontation in the locker room, Madison had kept her distance, and even Sylvester seemed to hate the world less than normal. They had only had to run the full routine 22 times before she had deemed them pathetic losers and told them to hit the showers. Which was just fine by Santana.

She headed down the stairs of her family's sizable house. Her parents were both doctors at Lima General Hospital, so they had plenty of money, but her father had wanted to build a house in the neighborhood in which he grew up. Thus their location on the less-than-desirable part of town. It wasn't a bad neighborhood, all things considered, and people respected her father, so it's not like they were crime victims, _but still_, Santana thought. _I could be living in Hollywood, or Chicago, or even Cincinnati. What kind of fool picks Lima Heights Adjacent?_

_But then, _she thought, _I wouldn't have met Brittany. So I guess that would've sucked._

She opened the door to see Sam, dressed in a Harry Potter t-shirt and jeans, carrying a laptop and a stack of books.

"Come in."

"Thanks."

Santana shut the door behind them, and the two girls stood awkwardly in the massive foyer for a second or two. "So – "

"Yeah. Um…what are you wearing?"

Sam looked down. "A Deathly Hallows shirt?"

"Wow. Nerd, much? What did you do? Mug a twelve year old boy?"

"Nah, I prefer to keep my criminal activity to breaking and entering." Sam replied easily. She walked past Santana into the living room. "Your house is huge."

Santana scoffed. "And where do you live, a tent? It's the only nice house around here, so I know you can't live anywhere decent."

Sam gave her a small smile. "Nope, its kind of a shack, actually. There's a reason I suggested we do this at your house."

Santana had no response for a moment. She didn't know why she had started insulting the girl as soon as she had walked through her front door, that was just kind of what she did, but Sam seemed to be handling it pretty well. She definitely was starting to gain respect for Sam.

"Whatever. Let me grab my laptop from my room, and we can get started."

"Sweet. Sounds good."

3 hours later, they were both sitting on the couch, feet on the coffee table, laptops in their laps, and the multitude of books Sam had gotten out of the library sprawled between them. They were making a Prezi and it was coming along quite well. Santana had actually started referring to it as the "kick-ass Prezi". ("It's gonna be ten times better than everyone else's, because Santana Lopez doesn't _do_ mediocre.") They had already gotten a good deal of the information they needed. They worked surprisingly well together. Sam noticed that when Santana was not at school, she was significantly less of bitch. She was actually a good hostess, offering her drinks and snacks after they had been working a while. That didn't stop her from insulting her at every chance she got, however. Sam didn't mind though. That just sort of seemed to be how Santana talked. She also had gotten a text from Brittany earlier that evening that read:

**From: Brittany Pierce  
****_Madison wont b mean 2 u anymore… :) San took care of it._****  
**

**To: Brittany Pierce  
****_Thanks, Britt. :) I appreciate it._**

**From: Brittany Pierce  
****_Anytime. :)_**

While Sam didn't think for a second that Santana had done any of that for her, it still proved that she could be a decent human being when she wanted to. She might be a huge bitch during school, (especially during Glee club when Rachel Berry was concerned), but she at least had some kind of personal moral code, which was cool.

"What time is it?" she asked Santana after realizing it had gotten dark outside.

"Um….10:07. Why? You gotta go?"

"I do actually." Sam replied, getting up and starting to gather up her books.

"Oh, that's cute. New girl has a curfew." Santana mocked.

"And…new girl has a higher GPA than you. What was that you said about nerds?" Sam asked, grinning.

Santana just looked at her. Then she rolled her eyes. "Whatever. So when's this junk due?"

"Monday."

"Alright. So come over tomorrow. Same time. We'll see if we can finish."

"Kay, cool."

As Sam drove away, Santana reflected on the evening. Brittany was right. Sam _was_ really smart. But also…pretty cool. Not that she would ever tell her that. But this whole project thing wasn't as awful as she'd expected it to be.

A thought came to her. _I wonder if she's actually…gay. Madison might just be making shit up. _

She didn't know why, but she really wanted to know. _Just so I can, you know, make sure she won't check me out._

_Yeah….that's it._


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Yay, reviews! You guys are splendid. In answer to a few questions I've gotten, no, Brittana hasn't happened yet. This story started around October of their junior year, and it's almost December now. I want Sam and Santana to be friends first, so she has someone she'll go to, especially when we get to the Hurt Locker scene. If Santana's acting sketchy, it's because she's still in denial. We'll get there. Yes, I do plan on making Sam friends with Britt. She kind of already is, but we'll get some more Brittany-Sam interaction too. Quinn is also going to have more of a role in the future. I have a soft spot for the Unholy Trinity. Sam's story is going to come out (he he...pun.) within the next two chapters, and there will be a big story climax within the next 5. So stay tuned.**

**Also, the rap they talk about is a real thing. It's amazing. Go look at it.**

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

Sam walked into school the next morning wincing with every step she took. It had been a particularly bad night last night. After she had gotten home from Santana's, she walked in to find her father watching a game show on the couch, liquor in hand. After they had realized that he wasn't paying his tabs, the local bars had started banning him from coming. This meant that he was always home now, getting drunk on whatever he could get from the ABC store. Judging by the way his eyes took a while to focus on her as he acknowledged her arrival, it wasn't his first drink of the night.

_"Where the _hell_ have you been?" he demanded._

_"Out. I was at a friend's finishing a project."_

_"Which friend?"_

_"Santana Lopez, Dad. Her father Carlos owns the big white house over by Ralph?"_

_"Lopez…..Lopez….yeah, yeah. I know him. What were you doing over there?"_

_Sam sighed, trying to be patient. If she lost her temper with him, he'd punch her for sure. "Finishing a project. For history. I told you about it this morning?" she tried._

_"Don't you get an attitude with me." He slurred. "Don't you_ dare_ get an attitude with me."_

_"I wasn't, I – "_

_"So now you're lying to me?" he asked, getting to his feet._

_"No, Dad, I'm not, I promise. I'm sorry." She rambled, eyes darting back and forth as she backed away from him._

_"You know what? You're an ungrateful little _bitch_. I feed you, put a roof over your head, and what do I get in return? A lying little dyke daughter who was probably out fucking some girl she picked up on the street."_

_Sam had backed up as far as she could go into the wall behind her. The door was on the other side of the room. She had nowhere to go. "Dad, please, I wasn't –"_

**_Crack!_**_ He smacked her across the face. "You. Pathetic. Piece. Of. Shit." As he spoke, he emphasized each word with a blow to her body. "I can't _believe_ I got stuck with you." he hissed. She cowered there, covering her face, whimpering each time he struck her. She refused to cry out. She had done that only once, and she would never do it again._

_When he had had enough, he stepped back. After one last look of disgust, he turned around, went into his bedroom, and shut the door._

_Sam just stood there, crying silently._

* * *

Needless to say, she hadn't gotten much sleep that night, and her body hurt like hell when she woke up this morning.

She would always lie in bed for a while on mornings like today's, thinking.

She thought about what life would be life if she could run away. But where would she go?

She thought about telling someone. _Yeah, that would work really well. He's an ex-cop and knows how to play that game. "Why no, officer. My daughter's actually been feeling a little resentful towards me lately, I made us move after my wife's death….Yes. Thank you, it's been very hard. Well, you know how teenagers can be. Yes. Thank you for your concern."_

And then he would beat the shit out of her.

_If I had only gone to get Mark from practice that day….none of this would have ever happened._

* * *

Gym that day was particularly difficult. Ever since Madison outed her to the whole school, none of the other girls would change with her. Which was good when she had bruises to hide, like today. Unfortunately, Quinn Fabray had, for some reason, picked that day to decide she wanted to change on the other side of the locker room too, and Sam was now trying to get her shirt off, a painful process anyway, without Quinn seeing the giant purple mark on her shoulder.

"Oh my God. What happened?" Too late.

Sam turned around, plastering on a smile as she did so. "Oh, you know, missed the door frame. I smacked my shoulder into it as I was leaving my bedroom last night."

Quinn looked at her bruise, then at her face, then back to her bruise. Sam held her breath, she really didn't need to deal with this right now.

"Ouch" was all Quinn said. Sam exhaled.

"Yeah. Sucked."

She said nothing else to Sam for the rest of the period, but Sam did notice that Quinn set their pace slower than usual that day. Quinn won, but only just.

* * *

As Sam got in the car after school to head to Santana's, it started to snow.

Glee practice that day had been pretty intense. Schuester was preparing everyone for Sectionals, but everyone was still reeling over the fact that Kurt had transferred. Sam had been upset too, she liked Kurt, and that Zizes girl was not exactly a fair replacement. She understood though. People generally left her alone because of Brittany (and, she supposed, Santana), but Kurt had to deal with Karofsky literally everyday. Compared to her father, Karofsky was just a playground bully, but Kurt had nothing to compare it to. He made Kurt's life a living hell. And to be scared for your life? That was definitely something Sam could sympathize with. His dad was getting married soon though, so that was something. She was looking forward to the wedding. Weddings brought lots of happy people together.

She arrived at Santana's at 7 exactly, and knocked on the polished wooden door twice. "It's unlocked!" she heard from inside, so she grasped the cold metal handle and pushed the door open.

The house smelled like... cookies? She went into the kitchen, where Santana was…baking. Smiling slightly, she asked, "You bake?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "Yes, new girl. I bake. And if you ever tell anyone about this, I will ends you."

Sam was definitely grinning now. "Understood. Are the cookies for anything special?"

Santana got a weird look on her face. "Um. Nope. Just trying to kill time. Cheerios practice was short today so I was gonna cook till you got here. I just forgot when you were coming. I thought I was gonna have this all cleaned up by now."

"Ah. Well, no big. I'll go get stuff set up?"

"Sure."

* * *

They worked for another 2 and a half hours, and were almost finished when Santana found something on the internet. "This. Is. Sick. Look at it." It was a rap about Alexander Hamilton, created by the writer of the musical _In the Heights, _and was actually kind of amazing.

"That's the guy from In the Heights, right?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, guy's hella creative."

"So you've seen it then." Sam asked, glancing at Santana.

"What? No, I – " she trailed off.

"Santana. You recognized the writer of a musical by his face and the other day you called Rachel Yentl. Which means you've totally seen the Streisand movie. Look who you're talking to here. I totally don't care if you're a closeted Rachel Berry." Sam said with a smirk.

"Shut the fuck up, Pearson." Santana said, smacking her with a pillow. "I will _never _be that bizzare. I just like to keep up with my Hispanic brothas in the ghetto. And it's impossible to not learn a few Streisand references from listening to Berry talk all the damn time."

Sam immediately adopted a mock-solemn face. "You're absolutely right, Ms. Lopez. You have my apologies." Santana rolled her eyes, just as there was a knock at the door.

"You're an idiot. I'm hungry. Pizza?" she asked, as she got up to answer it.

"Uh, sure." Sam replied. She glanced at the clock. 9:37. She really should go….

"Hey, Sam's here!" came a bubbly voice from the door. Sam looked up. Brittany was standing there, looking very happy to see her.

"Hey Britt. I didn't know you were coming by."

"Well neither did I, but San made me cookies, and I got excited, so I came over." Brittany explained. Sam glanced at Santana, who was very pointedly avoiding eye contact.

"That's cool." Sam said simply. "We're about to order pizza. Join us?"

"Okay!" said Brittany happily.

* * *

The three girls spent the rest of the evening eating junk food, and watching Disney movies. Brittany was very excited that Sam enjoyed watching them as much as she did. ("Dude. High five. Best movies ever. How can you not like Aladdin?") It was getting close to midnight when Santana turned to Sam and said, "Okay, Pearson, you're really going to have to stop doing that."

"Doing what?" Sam asked.

"Glancing at the clock every goddamn minute. You got someplace to be?"

"Um….not really…its just that my dad…gets mad if I stay out late."

Santana looked at her skeptically. "It's a Friday night. I'm sure he'll be fine."

Sam still looked uncertain. Brittany, who was on the other end of the couch draped comfortably over Santana's lap, spoke up. "You should just stay the night."

"What?" both Santana and Sam spoke in unison.

"Well, it's snowing outside so it would be really dangerous for her to drive home anyway, and that way, she can just text her dad and say she's being responsible."

The other girls both looked at Brittany. Then Sam looked at Santana.

Santana sighed. "Britt's right. You shouldn't drive in this anyway. Just crash here."

"You sure?" she asked. "That wouldn't be weird?"

"Nah, it's cool." Brittany beamed at Santana.

"Well…" Sam said hesitantly.

"Please stay Sam. It'll be awesome if you did." Brittany pleaded.

Sam looked at Brittany. _Damn, that girl's an effective begger. Fine. He is so gonna kill me. But you know what? Fuck him._

"Okay, I'll stay." She said.

_He's going to kill me anyway._


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Not much to say about this chapter. Build-up.**

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

Over the next couple of weeks, things got really bad for Sam. Her dad had completely lost it when she got back from Santana's the next morning. He was still drunk from the night before. That was the first time he had ever hit her with something other than his hand. The beatings became nightly, it didn't matter how respectful she was. Soon, she just stopped coming home. She'd take extra shifts at Breadstix as soon as she was done with school, and worked until they closed at 10. She'd drive her car out behind the local Wal-Mart, park there, and sleep in her car. In the morning, she'd wake up early, drive to school, and shower in the locker room. She only went home if she needed something. She couldn't move out completely, because she knew he'd come looking for her. She tried to go home when she thought he'd be passed out drunk, but sometimes he still caught her. Those were the worst beatings. He was furious at her for not coming home.

On top of all that, jazz band had a concert coming up that she needed to practice for, Glee had kicked into high gear after their tied win at Sectionals, and all of her teachers had decided to double her homework load at the same time.

After the sleepover, while Santana still totally ignored her at school, she had texted Sam inviting her to get ice cream with her and Brittany. They had then hung out a few times after school, even once with Quinn. Sam liked them. Brittany was obviously the nicest, but Santana and Quinn both were a lot cooler than they let on. Quinn obviously was the way she was because of all that happened last year (Santana told her about all the baby drama over a banana-split one afternoon), but Sam felt like if anything, Quinn was just kind of sad all the time. She couldn't imagine having to give up a baby that had lived inside her for 9 months.

And Santana…well. There was an interesting girl. She was obviously painfully in love with Brittany, but at the same time, refused to even acknowledge the possibility. ("Oh, me and Britt? Yeah. I mean, we fuck occasionally, but only when I get bored with Puck. I need sex. It's not like it means anything.) Sam had let that one go. Santana had had this pained expression on her face, and Sam had changed the subject.

She understood her fear though. Being gay was kind of scary the first time she had discovered it, and Santana was _all_ about what people thought of her.

* * *

They had had an interesting moment at Breadstix the other day when Brittany was in the bathroom. Santana had gone really quiet for a good 3 minutes, then looked at Sam and asked slowly, "So…uh, are you really…you know. Gay?" Sam just nodded. Santana looked at her spoon, processing. As soon as Brittany came back from the bathroom, though, the conversation was forgotten.

Even with whatever was going on in her head, Santana was really sweet when it came to Brittany. She always put Brittany's needs before her own, and it was super cute when she got all flustered at things Britt said.

Santana and Quinn also had an interesting relationship. School, Cheerios, and life had made them rivals. But you could tell they cared about each other. Sam also noticed that Quinn seemed to enjoy having Sam around. Being a third wheel on an unacknowledged bike must get old.

Even though Brittany was the only one who talked to her in school, her growing friendship with the cheerleaders was a good distraction from the hell she was experiencing at home.

One problem with making friends though, is that they start to notice you right when you want to hide.

"What the hell is that?"

Sam was in the locker room, changing after gym, and her shirt was off. She hadn't heard Santana come in.

Santana was referring to the dark purple oval on her collar bone, about the size of a man's thumb.

"Uhh…hickey?" Sam said the first thing that popped into her head. "Anyway, I- I gotta go, bye!" She grabbed her stuff, not even bothering to put her shirt on, and walked quickly out the door before Santana could respond.

Santana stood in the empty locker room. That definitely wasn't a hickey, that required a girlfriend….but the other girl had been moving so fast she hadn't had time to question her further. _Why did I come in here again? Oh. Britt's notebook. Right._ She grabbed the purple spiral-bound book in question, and walked out the door, the incident completely forgotten.

* * *

"San?"

"Mm?"

Santana and Brittany were lying on Brittany's bed one cold Wednesday afternoon, Brittany's head on Santana's chest, and a blanket over their bodies. They were watching Iron Man. Brittany had been in a superhero mood.

"Has Sam seemed…sad to you recently?"

"What?" Santana shifted so that she could look at Brittany better. "Sad how?"

The blonde shrugged. "I dunno. I just catch her thinking a lot, but its not happy thinking. It's sad thinking. But she's really nice and I don't want her to be sad…."

Santana thought for a minute. Sam had seemed a little quiet the last time she came over, but she had said she was just stressed. Which made sense, she supposed. Finals were coming up, the semester would be over soon….but then again, Brittany was usually right about these things. She was good with feelings. Santana was not.

Santana had become….friends (_friends? Are we friends? I guess we are..)_ with the girl much more quickly than she'd expected. Sam was funny, smart, and one of the few people that could put up with her bitchiness besides Brittany. And maybe Quinn. It honestly seemed to just not bother her at all, which was new. Santana also respected her quite a bit. Madison still went out of her way to be a bitch to Sam, but Sam handled it just fine. Not many people could do that, especially when they had loser status. She had found herself looking at Sam during Glee club that week and rolling her eyes every time Finn said something stupid. Which was frequently. Sam understood her distaste for Frankenteen, and rolled her eyes right back. So that was kinda cool. But Brittany was right. She had seemed a little down. Maybe she should find out what's up.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Lotta drama here. Nuff said.**

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

It was the week before winter break when Brittany bounced up to Sam at her locker Monday morning.

"Hey Britt. What's up?"

"Quinn and I are sleeping over at Santana's this weekend. Come?"

"Uh, sure. When?"

"Well Quinn has church Sunday morning, so it was going to be Friday night. Does that work?"

"Sure thing. I'll be there." She said with a smile.

Brittany stared at her for a few seconds, and then gave her a big hug. "I'm sorry you're sad." She whispered, and then turned and walked away. Sam stood there, not really sure what to do.

Sleeping over at Santana's meant that she needed to get clothes from home. She was running out anyway.

* * *

The next day, Sam walked into school in the middle of 3rd period. Her hair was messy, her clothes were wrinkled from being in the back of her car, and her T-shirt was on backwards because she had dressed so quickly this morning. Last night had been one of the worst nights of her life. Her father had started hitting her at the top of the basement stairs, and when his anger peaked, he shoved her. She slid down the entire 15 steps sideways, and now had giant cuts and bruises all down her side, from her armpit to her thigh. The only consolation was that he hadn't come down after her, but he slammed the door at the top of the stairs, leaving her in darkness. She had lay there all night, bent double in pain. When morning came, she could still hear him walking around, and she had had to wait until he was passed out on the couch to come upstairs. She couldn't take this anymore. She went into her room and grabbed a suitcase, shoving as many clothes into it as possible. The only other things she took were a few important papers, a picture of her mother and brother, and a necklace her brother had given her for her 14th birthday.

She put everything in her car, and made it to school just in time for the pop quiz Mrs. Wilson was going to give them that day. _Fantastic._

Brittany was staring at her as she sat down, but Sam ignored her. She took her quiz and as soon as the bell rang, got up and walked quickly out the door.

* * *

She successfully avoided confrontation until Thursday. She was in the locker room with Quinn, chatting about how Rachel had actually been less annoying than usual lately when she bent down to tie her shoe. She winced, and as she moved, her shirt came up, exposing her injured side.

"Sam….what….the hell?" Quinn was horrified.

"Don't worry about it. I fell down some stairs."

"How?"

"I tripped." She said shortly. "Look, I gotta go. I'm going to be late. I'll see you tomorrow."

Quinn watched her walk away. This was the 5th injury she had noticed in the past 3 weeks. Normally she didn't mention them, because she believed people had the right to have their secrets, but that had been really scary. It was time for an intervention.

* * *

After Cheerios practice that day, she marched up to Santana. "S, I have to talk to you."

Santana, who was gathering up the pom-poms from the field, gave her a sideways glance. "Help me pick these up and we'll talk."

Quinn rolled her eyes, but began picking up pom-poms anyway. "It's about Sam." She said.

"Yeah, what about her?"

"She's hiding something."

Santana snorted. "Q, we're in high school. Everyone's hiding something. What's your point?"

"No." she said, shaking her head. "Something…..bad. Look, I have gym with her, so I see her change. She has bruises. Everywhere. All the time. And when I ask her about them, she gets really shifty and won't talk about it."

Santana flashed back to the moment she had had with Sam in the locker room the other day. "Maybe… she secretly joined a kickboxing team." She suggested.

Quinn just stared at her.

Santana sighed. "Okay, so maybe I've noticed it too. And so has Britt. But what do you want me to do, Quinn? If she won't talk to you, and Brittany said she won't talk to her, then why would she talk to me?"

"Because you're her friend."

Santana paused for a second, pom-poms in hand. "Not anymore than you are."

"Um, try again. She trusts you Santana. For whatever weird reason, she does. She's your friend, you have a responsibility to help her. And…" Quinn said, taking a breath, "She is one of the few genuinely good human beings at this school. Even with all the crap you give her, you know she'd be there for you in the same situation. Help her." Quinn ordered.

Santana thought about this for a second. "Fine. I'll talk to her tomorrow. But you and Britt have to help me."

* * *

Friday night found Sam sitting in her car outside Santana's house, having an argument with herself.

_I really don't want to deal with Quinn. And if I guess correctly, she's talked to Santana. I'm sure Brittany has, they tell each other everything. Ugh. They can't find out about this. They'd freak out and then things would get…complicated. I just can't deal with that right now. I'm fine. Everything's under control. I really want to go in though…I just need to chill with people right now. Maybe I'll just talk to Brittany the whole night. If things get weird I can always leave. Yeah. That's what I'll do._

Satisfied, she grabbed her overnight bag and got out of the car. Just as she was about to knock on the door, it swung open, revealing Santana uncharacteristically dressed in sweats and a tank top.

"Hey loser. About fucking time. I thought you were going to sit in that car for forever. Do you usually talk to yourself, or are you just crazy on Fridays?" she asked, letting Sam through the door.

"You make me crazy, Santana." Sam shot back. "Am I the first one here? I thought Brittany said to come at 7."

"She did. But her and Quinn had to finish some stuff for Sylvester, so it's just us for a while."

Sam nodded. "I'll…put my stuff in the living room?"

"Yeah. I'm making brownies. Come help me."

The two girls worked silently for a while, stirring batter and adding ingredients, until Santana glanced at Sam. "So…uh…how are you?"

Sam stared at her. Santana Lopez did _not_ ask how people were. And she wanted to start _now? _"What?"

"You know…like…what's up?" Santana was struggling.

"Santana. What are you doing?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked innocently.

Sam sighed. "Did Quinn put you up to this?"

"What? No-"

"You know, for a manipulative bitch you should really be a better liar… I'm fine, okay? I know Quinn thinks I'm not, and I dunno what Brittany told you either, but I'm fine. Understand?"

Sam looked at Santana, begging her silently to let it go. Something about Sam's eyes made Santana nod once, and turn back to her batter. Quinn was right though. Something was definitely wrong.

* * *

Quinn and Brittany arrived an hour or so later, Quinn silently asking Santana when she walked in if she had found out anything. Santana shook her head violently, warning her to drop it. After they had exchanged small talk, Quinn put on the movie, and they all settled in to watch.

They had been watching for about an hour when Santana noticed something. Sam was grasping the arm of the couch so tightly her knuckles were white. Her whole body was tense. When Santana looked at her face, she saw it was really pale, and she kept shifting, as though she was looking for somewhere to run. _What the hell?_ She wondered if she was sick. She didn't really look sick though. _What else…_ Santana looked at the TV screen. They weren't watching anything gross…Granted, it was a little violent. Maybe she didn't like violence? Though it wasn't even like blood-and-guts levels of bad…it was just some guy with a drinking problem that kept...hitting...his...kid…._oh…Shit. _Everything clicked into place. The bruises, the quietness…her almost obsessive need to keep her curfew when they first hung out.

_Holy fuck._

"Okay, stop." Santana grabbed the remote and hit pause. Sam, Quinn, and Brittany, all looked at her. She looked only at Sam. "You're going to tell me what the fuck is going on with you. Right now." Sam's scared look was back, but now it was directed at her.

"I told you, I'm-"

"Don't you dare lie. You are not fine. You're sitting here squeezing the shit out of my couch, and you look like you're about to hurl. Don't give me that bullshit. Something's going on with you, Sam. Talk to me."

That was the first time Santana had ever called her by her first name. Sam paused. Her mouth opened as if she was about to speak, but then her eyes hardened. She set her shoulders, and Santana could see her walls go back up.

"This is ridiculous. I'm leaving." She said, standing up and walking towards the door. Within a second, Santana jumped up and went after her, grabbing her upper arm to spin her around. Sam cried out in pain. When she looked at Santana, there were tears in her eyes. "Please let me go." She whispered.

Santana loosened her grip, and her voice softened. "Not until you talk to me. Sam… I want to help you." She held her gaze, as Quinn and Brittany looked on, hanging on their every word.

Sam stared at Santana for what seemed like the longest minute in the world. Then she started to cry. For a moment, Santana looked like she didn't know what to do, but then she took a step forward and held the other girl in her arms. She looked across the room to Brittany and Quinn, and mouthed "_Help me._" Brittany jumped up and walked over, taking Sam from Santana. In one smooth motion, the dancer picked her up and carried her over to the couch, sitting down with Sam on her lap. Sam continued to cry into her shoulder, arms wrapped around Brittany's neck. Quinn came over and gently rubbed her back. Santana sat on Brittany's other side so that she could see Sam's face. "Take your time. You don't have to talk right now if you don't want to."

Sam sat up slightly, taking in big shaky gulps of air. "N-no. It's okay…I-I want to." The cheerleaders looked at her expectantly. "Okay." She said. "It all started last February."

**Ooh, intrigue. Okay, so I know I said we'd hear her story within the next two chapters, but it felt forced to put it here. Luckily for you, I update quickly and you will get it soon. :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

**9 months earlier...**

_"Sam, I need you to go get your brother from practice."_

_"I can't, Mom. I have wayyyyy too much homework to do."_

_"Samantha. It will take you fifteen minutes, and I can't get him either. You know I have to prepare food for the critic tomorrow."_

_"Mom. They'll love your food, even if you lose 15 minutes of prep time. I seriously am swimming in homework right now. This project's due on Monday, and then I have Spanish from when I was out sick and- "_

_"Okay, okay," Sam's mother sighed. "I will go get him. But you owe me. Dishes later."_

_Sam smiled at her mother. "Deal."_

* * *

_The phone call came 45 minutes later. Her dad picked up the phone. "Pearson residence. This is Frank." His face went white. "When? …I'll be right there." He turned to Sam, who had been watching him from the kitchen table. "Your mom's in the hospital. We have to go." Her heart dropped into her stomach. This couldn't be happening._

* * *

_When they arrived at the hospital, her father ran up to the reception desk and demanded to see someone. A tall, dark haired doctor approached him, guiding him to the side gently. Sam went over to them. "…..and I'm so very sorry Mr. Pearson. But your son was killed upon impact." Sam felt like she had been punched in the stomach. Her vision blurred. Mark? Dead? It wasn't possible. It was literally only 3 hours ago that he had been harassing her about a ho__odie she had borrowed from him. She needed to sit down. But first…what about her mom? She had to know._

_"What- what about my wife?" Her father seemed to be thinking the same thing._

_"She's in surgery. They're operating on her now. There was…a lot of damage to her internal organs, and she lost a lot of blood." The doctor said gently. Sam walked slowly over to a chair in the corner and sat down. Mark was dead. Her mom was in surgery. She couldn't let herself think about Mark right now. She couldn't. Her mom had to pull through this._

_She _had_ to._

* * *

_After two agonizing hours of refusing to think about anything but her mother, the doctor came back out. Her father stood up, and walked over to him._

_Sam stayed where she was. If the news was bad, she didn't want to hear it. She watched her father's face, and then the doctor's as he slowly shook his head. _She didn't make it.

_She didn't make it._

She didn't make it.

* * *

_The funeral was on a grey, miserable day in February. It snowed. Sam didn't cry. She was done crying. She had done all of her crying at the hospital. Her father hadn't cried once, and since the hospital, neither of them said a word to each other. When they had finally gotten home, her father had gone into his room and closed the door. _

_Her mother's best friend, another chef from the restaurant, had dealt with the funeral arrangements. For the next few months, Sam and her father tried to deal with the world that had come crashing down around them. _

_Finally, when Frank couldn't take it anymore, he started to drink._

* * *

Sam had stopped crying now, and instead just looked sad and lost. Brittany was drawing little circles on her leg, as though she was trying to send Sam some comfort through her skin. Santana instinctively reached out and grabbed her hand. "I am so... so sorry….How come you never mentioned it?"

Sam smiled weakly. "You never asked. It's not something you just bring up in a casual conversation."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but Jesus Christ, Sam. You could've said _something._"

Sam shrugged. "Hold on." Quinn spoke up. "You still haven't told us where the bruises came from."

"Well…" Sam said slowly. "Like I said. He started to drink. And then...he started to hit me." She paused. The cheerleaders all had varying looks of anger and indignation on their faces. "He's been beating me for a few months now. I'm pretty sure he blames me for the whole thing. I mean, who can blame him? If I had only stopped worrying about school for one goddamn second – "

"Hey. Stop. Now." Santana interrupted. "This is not your fault. _None_ of this is your fault, okay? Your father – " she said, looking angry now, "is a piece of shit that deserves to rot in Hell for the rest of his miserable life. _No one _deserves what he did to you. Especially not you." Sam didn't say anything. "I'm seriously gonna kill him." Santana said.

Sam looked up. "NO. Don't. Look, I'm not even living there anymore so I don't even see him…"

"Wait, what?" Quinn asked. "Where are you living?"

"Um…my car?"

"_Ay, de mi._" Santana ran a hand through her hair. "That's bullshit. You're living here. I have more than enough room."

"What?…no, I can't."

"Can and will. My parents are never home, so it's not like they'll notice, and you can have the spare bedroom next to mine. Besides, the one time they met you, they spent the next half hour after you left telling me what a nice girl you are." She rolled her eyes. "So I don't think they'll care."

Sam was quiet for a moment. "Okay. But you have to promise not to tell anyone."

Quinn disagreed. "Sam. He _hit _you. I don't care if it's not happening anymore, that's not okay. You have to tell someone."

Sam looked at her. "And then what, Quinn? Which parental unit will I live with when Child Protective Services hauls him off in handcuffs? I don't have any other family. Both sets of my grandparents are dead and my parents were both only children. They'll send me to an orphanage in Cincinnati or some shit and then I'd have to move. Again." Her voice broke. "I just can't – I can't deal with that."

Quinn looked like she was about to argue when Brittany spoke up for the first time.

"Why don't we let Sam have some space? She can move in with Santana, and then she'll tell people when she's ready. This is kind of a big thing, and pushing her isn't what she needs right now." Quinn looked unhappy, but she let it go.

"Thanks Britt."

"So..um…" Santana shifted uncomfortably. "Now that I've made you spill your guts everywhere…you wanna finish our movie night? With a different movie?"

Sam chuckled through her tears. "Yeah. I'd like that." Brittany stood up and deposited Sam next to Santana.

"I'll make popcorn!" she volunteered, and ran into the kitchen.

Sam took a deep breath. She was going to live with Santana. He wouldn't hurt her anymore. Everything was actually going to be okay.

**Yay...no more angst. For now. Don't fret though, this isn't even close to the end of the story, no matter what it sounds like.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Yayyyy update! Sorry for the delay guys, but the holidays have been crazy hectic. You know how families can be. I was also having issues transitioning into the next part of this story. All is well though now, so enjoy, and thanks for hanging in there!**

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

Sam moved all of her stuff into the spare bedroom of Santana's house the next day. Slowly, she started to heal. She stopped wincing every time she heard a man yelling, her bruises faded, and she started to smile again. Living with Santana proved to be an interesting experience. Sam quickly learned that the Latina, while not always easy to live with, was a lot of fun to have around. Brittany came over quite often, and the three of them would waste entire afternoons just talking. When it was just the two of them, especially for the first few days, Santana was extra gentle with her, showing a compassionate side she usually reserved only for Brittany. Sam felt safe with Santana, and while she spent almost every day convincing Santana to not go over to her house and strangle her father, she appreciated that the other girl cared about her.

From another perspective, Santana really enjoyed having Sam around. She would never admit it, but it got pretty lonely in her house. She had never resented her parents for their absence, but sometimes she just wished her parents were teachers or something. Before she had met Brittany in the 2nd grade, she had had no one to play with at all. And despite all she had been through, Sam was still one of the nicest people Santana had ever met. She knew that if she had gone through what Sam had gone through, she would be taking it out on the entire world. Sam was sweet though, and funny as hell. She was sarcastic, just like Santana, and once the two girls got more comfortable with each other, they developed a banter that was like that of her and Quinn, but without the sharp edge.

They didn't tell anyone that Sam had moved in with Santana, but Santana began acknowledging her at school. She actually made it very clear that Sam was under her protection and was not to be messed with. Quinn did the same, and while the population of McKinley was extremely confused at the odd friendship, no one said a word. Not even Madison. She had grown bored with tormenting Sam anyway, and, determining that the other girl was not a threat to her, she backed off.

* * *

One day, Santana's mom came home from work early, and walked into the living room to find her daughter sitting on the couch, in peals of laughter at something Sam had said. She watched the scene with a smile on her face. It had been a long time since she had seen Santana that happy. And she had certainly never seen her happy due to anyone but Brittany.

Santana looked up and saw her mother standing in the doorway. "Mama!" she said, surprised. She jumped up to give her mother a hug. "You're home early."

Maribel Lopez smiled and nodded. "Si, mija. I took the rest of the day off so I could come keep my daughter company, but…I see you already have someone doing that."

Sam stood up. "I can leave, Mrs. Lopez, we were just talking. I wouldn't want to intrude."

Maribel waved her words away with her hand. "No, please. First of all, I told you last time, call me Maribel. And second of all, you are not intruding. Anyone who can make my daughter act like a happy teenager is welcome anytime. She needs more real friends."

"Mama!" Santana protested.

"What?" She said dismissively. "It's true. Anyway, Sam, would you like to join us for dinner?"

Sam looked at Santana who shrugged. She didn't care. "If….that's alright with Santana, I'd love to." Sam replied.

"I'm fine with it."

"Excellent." Said Santana's mother. "Then let me change my clothes and we'll go."

* * *

"And then," Maribel said, laughing so hard she could barely breathe, "Santana came up to me and said 'Mami, the truck…it's stuck in my hair!" Maribel and Sam were in hysterics while Santana crossed her arms and pouted.

"I was four! And nobody ever told me those damn wheels would get so tangled anyway. It was a completely understandable mistake."

Sam grinned at Santana and asked "Why would you choose to drive a Tonka truck over your head anyway?"

Santana slouched further down in her chair and muttered, "It felt cool. I thought the wheels were massage rollers." This only brought about another round of giggles from Sam.

"Needless to say," Maribel cut in, "Santana had very short hair for the rest of that summer." Santana rolled her eyes and took a very disinterested sip of water from her glass.

Despite the fact that her mother and Sam had decided to gang up on her all of a sudden (THAT was a bizarre friendship she certainly hadn't expected) she was actually enjoying herself quite a bit. She hadn't really had significant mother-daughter bonding time since...she couldn't remember when, and she was much happier than she expected to be that her mom liked Sam. She supposed at some point she should bring up the fact that the other girl had actually moved in (because like hell was she going to let Sam move back in with that dickhead father of hers) but now was not the moment.

If she was being perfectly honest with herself (which she didn't do very often, because Santana didn't do emotions if she could help it) she kinda really needed a friend at the moment. And Quinn…well. Santana had learned a long time ago that Blondie could only be trusted when she wasn't scheming for something. Which was like, never. So it's not like she could turn to her.

She and Brittany were….well. She didn't really know what was going on with them right now. Ever since that stupid duets assignment things had been weird. Britt had started dating Wheels and she seemed to actually….like him. That wasn't the way things were supposed to work. Sure, her and Britts were both hot, and together they had slept with most of the guys in school, but that was just sex. There were never supposed to be _feelings_ involved. If she knew Britt and the cripple were gonna get all lovey dovey like they were she would've just sang the damn duet with the blonde and none of this would've happened.

_Not that I'm jealous. _Santana reminded herself. _But Britt's my best friend and she's dating a total loser. Of course I want them to break up._

She was pulled out of her reverie by Sam and her mother standing up to go. Santana quickly followed suit. "So, Sam, where do you live?" Maribel asked. "We can drop you off on our way back. Sam and Santana looked at each other. "Actually-" Sam began.

"Actually she's coming home with us Mami." Santana cut in. "She came over to work on a project and we still have some to do. She already cleared it with her dad." Sam said nothing, but nodded at Santana's words.

"Oh." Said Maribel, who seemed pleased at the news. "Well that's fine, sweetie. You're welcome to stay as long as you want."

Sam and Santana glanced at each other again, and looked away as they shared a thought: Maribel had no idea how true that statement was.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Ermahgherd, update! So you guys have my sincere apologies for the long wait...I have no excuses except for the fact that school has been hella rough, and I've also been remarkably uninspired by Glee itself of late. However, I'm an optimist, and, let's face it, Brittany and Santana are soul mates. So they have to end up together eventually. With that in mind, I sat down today and power wrote, and here are the next four chapters. From here on in, you'll get an update once a week, I promise. As always, reviews are much appreciated. Happy reading!**

******Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

Santana had a problem. Valentine's Day was coming up, and she didn't have a date. How was this possible? She was the hottest bitch at school.

She hadn't really worried about it until last week, just assuming that some football player would ask her out by the time the day rolled around. But then, the stupid glee club had started the week by being all candy hearts and chocolates, and she had realized…Valentine's Day was 4 days away and she still had no one.

To make her Monday even better, Finnocence had started spouting bullshit about how he'd be setting up a kissing booth to "raise money for the Glee club". And when she pointed out, (rather obviously, in her opinion) that the Jolly Green Giant was possibly the worst kisser in existence, his midget girlfriend had chosen that moment to go all in on her life and tear her apart in front of the entire Glee club. Not that she cared what those losers thought about her. Really. But she had had a rough morning, (watching Brittany and Artie make out for 5 minutes straight at the lockers this morning had done wonders for her mood) and all she had been trying to do was to be honest. That's all. And to top it all off, _everybody_ else had joined in, (because apparently they _all_ had a problem with her) and she'd ended up a sobbing, messy puddle in the hallway. (Honestly, she probably could've stopped crying a lot sooner than she had, but it was kinda nice to sit there in Britt's arms for a while.)

So the next day, her ego feeling a little bruised, she had gone up to Puck in the hallway and informed him that he was going to be her Valentine's Day date. He wasn't the worst sex she'd ever had, and they looked hot together. But for some crazy reason, he had said no. He was dating Lauren. He chose the great white whale over her? Somebody must have put something in the water at McKinley. First Brittany, now Puck? What the fuck was going on with the world? Everyone was all…serious and shit about their relationships. Did they not understand that this was high school? You weren't supposed to be in love yet. You weren't supposed to fall for someone so hard that being away from them made you feel empty. You weren't supposed to spend every waking moment thinking about them. Their laugh, their smile, that little crinkly thing her nose did when she was thinking hard….

Santana shook her head. New train of thought needed.

Just as she thought this, Brittany came down the hallway, wheeling Artie in front of her, and laughing that adorable laugh of hers. Santana felt a pang in her chest.

She scowled and turned and walked in the other direction. She _would _find someone to ask her, if it was the last thing she did.

* * *

"Hey Sam, you got a date for Valentine's Day yet?" The boy had come up behind her at her locker, taking Sam by surprise. His name was Ben, he was in English class with her and Brittany, and he was sweet, if not exactly Sam's type.

"As it happens, no." she replied.

His face lit up. "Great. Well I didn't either and I was just wondering if you wanted to go to Breadsticks with me."

Sam hesitated. "Um…Ben. You do know I'm…gay. Right?"

Ben just dismissed this with a wave of his hand. "Yeah. Totally. It wouldn't be an actual date. I'm not that kinda guy. But you seem really cool and you're also pretty hot….if you don't mind me saying so. Just thought it might be fun."

Sam shrugged. "Yeah, okay." She smiled.

"Awesome. Pick you up at 7?"

"Sure thing."

"Sweet. See ya!"

Sam turned back to her locker only to find Santana standing there glowering, arms crossed. "Um. Hi, Santana. Can I help you with something?"

"You're kidding me, right?" She asked sharply.

"Um…no?" Sam was confused.

"YOU have a date, and I don't? You're gay! And I'm hot! And a cheerleader! What the actual fuck?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Would it make you feel better if I canceled?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "No. Not the point." Sam closed her locker and together they started to head to history.

"Santana, you terrify people. It takes giant _cajones_ just to even speak to you. Of course no one's asked you. The football players all want cute little freshmen who they can wrap around their fingers. Santana looked extremely displeased at this information. "I think you're just pissed because Artie is Brittany's date." Santana shot her a warning look. "You know," Sam continued. "Because she should clearly be going with someone equally as popular, and as her friend you're worried." Santana was temporarily mollified.

"Whatever." She said, with a flip of her hair. "I can still have fun this Valentine's day even if I don't have a stupid date. Time for Santana to do what she does best." There was a smirk on her face that Sam just knew spelled trouble.

* * *

Two days later, after an interesting appearance of a slutty nurse's outfit and a kissing booth kiss that Sam knew Santana wasn't giving Finn out of actual interest, Finn and Quinn were both sick with mono and Santana wore a very self-satisfied smirk on her face. Sam rolled her eyes. Someone really needed to sort this Santana-Brittany deal out. Like soon. She was pretty sure that there was only so much denial a girl deal with before she exploded. Not to mention the outcome for the rest of the school when that happened…

* * *

The night of Valentine's Day had arrived, and both Sam and Santana were dressed up to go out. "Fuck boys." Santana had declared. "I'm a fine piece of ass and I'll go out by my damn self. No one is stopping Santana Lopez from getting her breadsticks." Sam had approved heartily, and now they were both sitting in Ben's car, on the way to the restaurant. He had agreed to pick Santana up too, though he didn't seem to be able to comprehend that _the _Santana Lopez would actually be in _his _car. His jaw had actually dropped when Sam had asked him, and he couldn't say yes fast enough. This had assuaged Santana's ego a bit.

Dinner, however, seemed to counteract this. Kurt had showed up with his beautiful new boy toy and the rest of the Warblers, to sing love songs to everyone. Sam didn't miss the way Santana's eyes kept drifting over to Artie and Brittany's table. By the time dinner had been eaten and dessert menus passed out, the music had ceased but Santana looked downright miserable and had already yelled at the waiter twice. Sam decided to step in.

"Ben?" she asked. "I'm not really feeling well…I think I ate something weird…do you mind taking me home?" She touched his arm flirtatiously, because damn it, she _did_ look hot tonight and he _was_ a nice guy that she was skipping out on. Might as well give the boy something.

He looked surprised but not upset as he replied, "Uh, sure. No problem. Santana too?"

"Yeah."

They got up from their table, and as they passed by Santana's booth Sam tapped her on the shoulder. "Come on, grumpy cat. We're leaving." Santana looked surprised, but didn't argue as she grabbed her coat and followed them out the door.

The ride home was silent, and when they arrived at the Lopez house, Santana headed for the front door without a glance behind her. Sam, however, stayed behind a second to talk to Ben.

"Well, I had fun tonight. Sorry I had to leave."

"No worries." Ben said easily. "We can hang out again sometime."

"Sounds good." Sam smiled. "See you at school."

As Ben drove away, Sam walked into the house to find Santana standing in the kitchen. "What the hell are you looking at?" Santana snapped. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing. However, I _am_ going to take this cookie dough ice cream from the freezer", as she spoke she removed the large container, "and these two spoons, as well as a full season of Friends, upstairs to my room. Because Valentine's day blows, and it's really only an excuse for people to sell more cards and chocolate." With that, she turned and left the room, leaving Santana alone in the kitchen, wrestling with her pride over whether or not she should follow.

"Fuck it." She mumbled. She grabbed a bag of Doritos, and followed Sam upstairs. She liked Friends.

Sometimes friends were all you needed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

The return of Holly Holliday to McKinley boosted everyone's spirits post-Valentine's Day. Even if they only had her for Sex Ed (Sam didn't think she'd ever laughed so hard in her life when Mercedes and Finn asked if you could get pregnant from cucumbers), she made everyone's day a little brighter. And for whatever reason, Schue had decided his kids needed Sex Ed in Glee club too, so there she was. Sam was packing up her guitar after a rousing rendition of "Do You Wanna Touch Me" when Brittany tapped her on the shoulder. "Hey Britt." She smiled. "What's up?"

Brittany took a deep breath. "Well, Artie's supposed to take me home...but today he has to visit his grandmother so he can't, and I saw you and Santana came in separate cars today, so I was wondering... if you could maybe give me a ride home?" she rambled.

Sam smiled. "Sure thing, B, but…don't you have Cheerios practice? Couldn't Santana take you home after?"

Brittany shook her head. "I can't go today. My mom needs me home right after school to watch my sister." Sam nodded.

"And Sylvester's really okay with that?"

"Well, not really, but I've already choreographed all the dance routines for the week and taught them to Quinn and Santana, so she doesn't really need me. I can miss a day." Sam nodded her understanding, always quietly impressed at Brittany's dancing abilities. As they headed out to the parking lot, she turned to face the blonde.

"How long have you been dancing for, Brittany?"

"Well, my mom says as soon as I could walk, I would bob up and down to whatever noises I heard. Like the static on the television. I started taking classes when I was 4 though."

"Damn. I don't know if you hear this enough, Britt, but you're kind of amazing."

Brittany met her eyes and smiled. "Thanks Sam. I kind of know."

Sam grinned. As they got in her car, she gave Brittany a sideways glance. "So…you and Artie. You guys good?"

Brittany nodded happily. "Yeah. He's really nice to me." Her brow furrowed. "I wish it didn't make San so sad though."

Sam nodded, her eyes on the road. "Yeahhhh…How are the two of you?"

Brittany shrugged. "I dunno. She's dating Sam Evans now, you know?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. That kinda ended up being the result of her Valentine's Day meddling. She needed a project."

Brittany looked thoughtful and then continued. "Well we…Sometimes it's good and sometimes it's bad. Like when we have sexytimes, it's awesome. Or when we cuddle naked watching a movie. Or when we eat whipped cream off of each other's –"

Sam held up a hand. "Britt, overshare. I get the picture."

"Right, sorry. So then, it's fine. But whenever I talk about Artie, or us, she gets really weird and…prickly. You know?"

Sam sighed. "Yeah, Britt, I know."

Brittany sat back in her chair. "It's just really confusing."

"Welllll…." Sam said slowly, "why don't you talk to someone about it? If you guys can't talk to each other, why don't you both talk to a grown-up? A cool grown-up, but still. Someone who knows what they're doing."

Brittany thought this over. "Like who?"

"I dunno. Ms. Holliday?"

Brittany appeared to be mulling this over as they pulled into her driveway. "Yeah, maybe. San's coming over after practice so I'll ask her then." She leaned over to wrap Sam in a hug. "Thanks Sam. You're kind of a unicorn, you know?" She smiled, and then headed for the front door. Sam smiled to herself and headed home.

* * *

Later that afternoon, after sexytimes had been had and clothes had been put back on, Santana was putting Brittany's hair up. Brittany took a deep breath and said, "I want to talk to you about something. I really like it when we make out. And stuff."

Santana leaned down next to her and said, "Which isn't cheating because…."

"The plumbing's different." Brittany replied promptly. Santana stood up again, satisfied, but Brittany wasn't finished. "But when Artie and I are together," she noticed Santana wince, but she pushed through anyway, "we talk about stuff. Like feelings."

Santana paused, lip gloss container in hand. She had _not_ expected _this_ conversation. "Why?"

"Because. With feelings it's better."

Santana went back to doing her makeup. "Are you kidding? It's better when it doesn't involve feelings. I think it's better when it doesn't involve eye contact."

"I don't know." Brittany replied, unsure of herself now. "I guess I just don't know how I feel about us."

At the word "us", Santana stood up straight. "Let's be clear here." She said. "I'm not interested in any labels. Unless they're on something I shoplift."

"I don't know, Santana. I think we should talk to somebody, like, an adult. This relationship is really confusing for me."

Santana sighed, her mind racing for a way out. "_Breakfast_ is confusing for you."

"Well, sometimes it's sweet, sometimes it's salty." objected Brittany. "Like what if I have eggs for dinner, what is it?"

Santana just stared at her. She was not allowed to do this. Not right now. She was _especially_ not allowed to be cute like that, right as they were having this conversation. Brittany just sat there, staring right back. Santana sighed. "Fine. But who the hell are we supposed to talk to?"

"Ms. Holliday?"

Santana nodded. "Okay. Tomorrow. Look, I gotta get home, alright? I'll see you at practice in the morning?"

Brittany nodded, standing to give Santana a hug. Santana stood there, wrapped in an aura of Brittany's warmth, the smell of her shampoo, the faintest traces of the sex they just had, until she couldn't take it anymore and she had to pull away. They shared a small smile, and then she turned around and walked out.

* * *

Santana said nothing to Sam about the conversation that night, and Sam didn't push it. She had gotten a text earlier from Brittany saying:

**From: Brittany Pierce  
**_**Talked 2 San…going 2 talk to ms holliday 2morro…thx.**_

**To: Brittany Pierce  
**_**That's good…good luck. Let me know how it goes.**_

She figured Santana would talk when she needed to.

* * *

Santana and Brittany approached Holly in the hallway the next day.

"Ms. Holliday? We need your help." Santana said quietly. Without a word, Holly led them into the room that was functioning as her office for the moment, turned off all the lights, and had them sit in a circle on the floor.

"Why are we sitting on the floor?" Brittany asked.

"Because we're in Japan." Holly replied. Brittany looked slightly confused at this, and Santana shot Holly a look. Holly corrected herself. "Welcome to my sacred, sexy sharing circle. I want to thank you for confiding in me, because I know this is tough. And I want to ask both of you if either one of you thinks that you might be a lesbian."

"I don't know." Brittany answered. She looked at Santana.

Santana shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, I mean, who knows? I'm attracted to girls and I'm attracted to guys. I've made out with a mannequin. I even had a sex dream about a shrub that was just in the shape of a person." She was rambling.

"Well." Holly interjected. "We've all been there. I went to an all-girls college where the only industry in the town was the manufacture of softball equipment. I still feel a little tingle when I hear "Ani DiFranco". She shivered, then continued. "Anyway, it's not about who you're attracted to; ultimately, it's about who you fall in love with."

"Well I don't know how I feel because Santana refuses to talk about it." Brittany said sadly. A look of guilt passed over Santana's face.

"Well I know talking about feelings can be hard," Holly said understandingly. "Why don't you sing about them?"

"I…think I could do that." Santana said slowly. "I actually think I have the perfect song in mind. "But we'll need help singing it."

Holly smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

By the time Glee club rolled around, Santana's hands were shaking. She couldn't do this. This was insane. She looked up from her chair and saw Sam sitting with the band. She smiled at Santana and gave her a thumbs up. How did Sam even know what was going on? Brittany walked in and smiled at Sam, before sitting next to Santana and linking their pinkies. Of course. She must have talked to Brittany about all of this. Whatever. She couldn't say she was surprised. The musician was a good person to talk to, she'd give her that. It was probably good that Brittany could talk to someone who had their head on straight right now.

Her focus was brought back to the problem at hand when Holly walked into the room followed by Schuester, who wasted no time getting in front of the class and saying, "Well guys, Brittany and Santana have a song prepared that they'd like to share, so we'll start with them. Girls, whenever you're ready."

Santana took a deep breath. She tried not to look like her heart was pounding in her chest as she and Brittany walked over to sit on the stools either side of Holly.

The opening chords came flowing from Holly's guitar, and then the opening lyrics from Holly herself. As the song grew, Santana joined in, harmonizing with the older woman. Finally, Brittany joined them, and Santana looked at her. Really, really looked at her.

As they sang, Santana thought about all the things she wanted to say to Brittany. _I've built my life around you…_ It was true. Ever since she had seen that sweet, freckled, little blonde girl on the first day of second grade, she had felt unexplainably happy. Like a little ball of warmth had settled in her chest, right next to her heart, to tell her that she would never be alone again.

The lyrics swelled.

Memories of playground adventures, Cheerios sleepovers, pool parties, and even the first time Brittany had, out of nowhere, leaned down and kissed Santana on the lips. "What was that for?" Santana had asked, surprised, but not at all displeased. Brittany had shrugged and simply said, "I wanted to see what you tasted like." Santana had figured this was a good enough reason, and, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach that were doing backflips, reached up, and kissed her best friend right back.

The lyrics fell.

But how could she possibly do this? First of all, she couldn't be in love…being in love meant you got hurt. And she couldn't deal with that. And being in love with a girl? In Ohio? Yeah. Not so much. _But time makes you bolder…_

She looked away from Brittany to stare at all the faces of the Glee club members looking back at her. None of the boys really seemed to know what was going on, except maybe Mike. He'd been close to Brittany for almost as long as she had, so no surprises there. He even looked happy about it. The girls were a little more insightful…she could just tell that Wheezy was itching to get home to call Lady Hummel about this new development. Whatever. He was gayer than she was. Her eyes fell on Berry. She was looking annoyingly understanding. _That _would have to change.

And finally, she looked over at Quinn. Little miss perfect Christian, who'd been both a blessing and a curse in her life ever since she walked into the locker room freshman year, simply looked content. Like this was supposed to happen, and it didn't surprise her at all. It was this that gave Santana courage to look back at Brittany as the song came to an end. There was silence in the room, as both girls got up and Brittany asked, "Is that really how you feel?" Santana sniffed, and wiped the tears she hadn't even realized were rolling down her face. She nodded.

"Yeah." She smiled. Brittany hugged her, pulling her close. They stood still for a moment, wrapped in their own little world before Rachel Berry felt the need to make a very Rachel Berry-like comment.

"Can I just applaud this trio for exploring the uncharted waters of Sapphic charm? Brava, brava." At this, most of the Glee club rolled their eyes, Sam and Quinn sighed, and Santana's head whipped around as she stepped away from Brittany.

"Look, just because I sang a song with Brittany, does not mean you get to put a label on me, understand?" She snapped. At this, she turned, walked over to her chair, and sat down.

"Um, yes. Thank you girls. That was great." Schuester said, obviously trying to relieve some of the tension in the room. "Well this week we've been talking about sexy music so I'm going to ask you…" His voice faded into the background as Santana disappeared into her thoughts. Brittany slipped quietly into the chair beside her and silently took her pinky. Santana smiled. She looked over at Sam, who smiled too. She still had no clue where her head was at, but it was certainly a start.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

The night after the girls sang Landslide, Sam wandered into Santana's room to find the Latina laying on her bed staring at the ceiling. Sam flopped into a chair. "Anything interesting up there?" She asked. Santana rolled onto her side, propping her head up with one hand.

"Did you talk to Brittany about talking to an adult?" She asked.

Sam nodded. "Yes. She was worried about you and you were going nowhere so I told her to talk to someone. I'm sorry if that bothered you."

Santana seemed to accept this answer. "Nah. It's fine." She fell back into silence.

"So…" Sam started. "Are you going to talk to her?"

"Who?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "The Queen of England, Santana. Who do you think?"

Santana said nothing for awhile and then asked quietly, "What am I supposed to talk to her about?"

"Santana, look. It took a lot of balls to get up there today and sing that song. You've already proven that you're strong enough to do this. Just go up to her tomorrow, tell her you love her, and see what happens. You've already got the advantage over most people…you know she loves you back."

Santana was quiet again. "I think I need to think about it." Sam nodded her head.

She stood up and walked to the door, but before she left, turned around and said, "You're one of the strongest people I know, S. You can do this." With this, she left Santana's room, closing the door behind her and leaving Santana to her thoughts.

* * *

The next day found Santana looking for Brittany. Sam was right. She _could _do this. All she had to do was tell her. That's it. And there she was. Standing at her locker, looking as breathtakingly beautiful as ever. She took a deep breath and walked up to Brittany. "Can we talk?" she asked.

Surprised, Brittany responded, "But we never do that."

"I know." Santana said softly. "But I wanted to thank you for singing that song with me in Glee Club."

"Yeah…"

"Cause it made me do a lot of thinking. What I realized…" She took another deep breath. "What I realized is why I'm such a bitch all the time. I'm a bitch because I'm angry. Because I have all of these feelings. Feelings for you, that I'm afraid of dealing with, because I'm afraid of dealing with the consequences." Her voice dropped in volume as a football player walked by. "And Brittany…I can't go to an Indigo Girls concert, I just can't."

"I understand that."

Santana looked searchingly at her. "Do you understand what I'm trying to say here?"

Brittany shook her head apologetically. "Not really."

Santana gathered her nerve again. "I want to be with you. But I'm afraid of the talks…and the looks. I mean, you know what happened to Kurt at this school."

Brittany looked surprised. "But honey, if anybody were to ever make fun of you, you would either kick their ass or slash them with your vicious, vicious words."

At this Santana started crying. "I know…but I'm so afraid of what everyone will say behind my back. Still. I have to accept that I love you. I love _you._ And I don't want to be with Sam, or Finn, or any of those other guys. I just want you. Please say you love me back. _Please._"

"Of course I love you." Brittany responded immediately. "And I would totally be with you if it weren't for Artie."

Santana froze. "Artie?"

"I love him too. I don't want to hurt him. It's not right. I can't break up with him."

Santana took a step back, her fury at the wheelchair-bound boy slowly building. "Of course you can. He's just a stupid boy."

"But it wouldn't be right." Brittany looked just as upset as Santana now, she hated hurting the people she loved. "Santana, you have to know if Artie and I were to ever break up and I'm lucky enough that you're still single…" she reached out to touch Santana's arm, but Santana jerked it away, saying, "Don't."

Brittany continued, "I am so yours. Proudly so."

"Yeah, wow." Santana hissed, lashing out now to keep herself from breaking. "Whoever would have thought that being 'fluid' would have meant you could be so _stuck_."

"I'm sorry..." Brittany said.

She reached for Santana, but she pushed her away again, saying, "Don't. Get off me." And with this, she turned away, walking quickly down the hallway, trying not to totally lose it before she found a bathroom that she could scare the freshmen away from.

* * *

When Santana got home that night, Sam knew that it hadn't gone well with Brittany. Santana wasn't speaking to anyone, and used every opportunity she had to insult Sam, and everyone around her. She was worse than Sam had ever seen her. She texted Brittany.

**To: Brittany Pierce**  
_**Um…Britt…what happened?**_

**From: Brittany Pierce  
**_**:( i told her i couldn't leave artie…**_

**To: Brittany Pierce  
**_**Ouch.**_

**From: Brittany Pierce  
**_**I can't! it wouldn't b fair 2 him….**_

**To: Brittany Pierce**_**  
****I know Britt. But Santana's in kind of a delicate spot right now…**_

**From: Brittany Pierce  
**_**:( Take care of her 4 me?**_

**To: Brittany Pierce  
**_**Always.**_

Sam gave Santana the space she needed over the next few days, but followed her around a lot doing damage control. She had a towel in her backpack to hand to the kids she slushied, tissues for the freshmen she made cry, and made sure that Quinn knew to keep an eye out for her during Cheerios. She didn't step in until a week later, when it was clear that Santana had jumped right back into denial.

Schuester had approved Rachel's idea for the club to write original songs for Regionals after Quinn had (bizarrely) stood up for the idea. After Sam finished watching Santana perform "Trouty Mouth" to the whole club, (which, she had to admit, was brilliantly hilarious) she decided to step in.

After school that day, she waited in the parking lot until Cheerios practice was over, having pickpocketed Santana's keys earlier that day. As Santana came out of the school doors, Sam wiggled the keys in front of her and said, "Get in loser. We're going shopping." Santana looked pissed off at the theft, but impressed with the other girl's pickpocketing skills, and got in the passenger seat without another word. They arrived at the Lima Mall a short time later and quickly went to work. The afternoon passed not unenjoyably as Sam took Santana's mind off recent events by looking for a prom dress. Santana looked to be in much better spirits by the time they reached the food court, having found a gorgeous dress that she loved. They were sitting at their table, sharing a pizza, when Sam jumped in with both feet.

"Look, Santana. You are a wonderful person and you need to stop being mega bitch. It's time."

Santana looked surprised at this statement before her cheerleader persona kicked in. "What the hell are you talking about, loser? I'm always mega bitch. It's just who I am. You gots to deal." Sam sighed.

"I am referring," she started, slowly reaching under the table to pull Santana's dress towards her, "to the fact that ever since Brittany turned you down, you've been on the warpath towards the entire school and you need to stop." Santana glared at her, her lips pursing.

"Look, I'm so over that. I don't even know what I was thinking. I'm totally straight. I sang Sam a song today, remember?"

"Santana. One, you are so far in the closet you can see Narnia. Two, the fact that you sang a song about the most feminine part of your boyfriend is extremely telling, don't you think?"

A look of concern passed over the Latina's features, but she still refused to budge. "Not everyone's a dyke, dyke." She spat. Sam's face remained unchanged.

"True. But you…" As she spoke she pulled Santana's new dress from her lap and reached for the blue raspberry ICEE she was drinking and held it over the dress, tipping it slightly, "are about to be a dyke with a purple dress if you don't get your head out of your ass and listen to me."

Santana sat up straight. "You have _so _got to be kidding me."

"Not even a little bit."

"Pearson."

"Lopez."

They sat there, locked in a stalemate, until Santana sighed and sat back. "Fine, fine. Just don't ruin the dress, okay? I look hot in it, and it took me like 3 hours to find."

"Fair enough." Sam put the cup back on the table. "I'm just asking you to listen, okay?" Santana nodded. "Okay. One. I know that you got your heart broken last week and that sucks no matter who you are. I'm not asking you to just be perfectly okay. Two. Don't be mad at Brittany, because you know that's who she is. She can't hurt people."

"I'm not."

"Good. Three. You need to take the bitch factor down like seven notches. This school can only handle so much Santana. Okay?" Santana smirked, but nodded again. "Four." Sam took a deep breath. "Four. Hypothetically speaking. _If_ you were gay. I, of all people get the fact that it's not easy. It sucks, actually. But we live in Lima, Ohio, and 70 percent of the rest of the world is not like this. _And, _if anyone could deal with being gay, it would be you. Kurt got his ass kicked because he's a gay guy. You, however, are the toughest bitch I've ever met, and it would be no problem at all for you to be the toughest gay bitch I've ever met. Yes, people would talk, but you can talk right back. You're good at that. And people surprise you. You know the whole Glee club would be fine with it, so that's a start. I'm just saying. Hypothetically."

Santana sat still for a while, deep in thought. Finally, she met Sam's gaze. "I can't." She said quietly. "I can't yet."

Sam nodded once. "I get that. Just... don't jump back in the closet, okay? At least not with me?"

Santana looked at the girl sitting across from her. "How are you still single? You get all this shit way better than I do." Sam chuckled.

"Maybe I didn't emphasize the words _Lima _and _Ohio_ enough." Santana smiled as they stood up to go. Maybe she could do this after all.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

The next few weeks passed in a blur before spring break. Glee club had regionals, which they won with flying colors, (although everyone agreed that the Warblers were great), Brittany, Artie, Tina, and Mike won the academic decathalon, thanks to Brittany's knowledge of cat diseases (a surprise to everyone except Santana, Sam, and Quinn), and all of Sam and Santana's teachers seemed to have decided that they should all make their midterm tests the same week, leading to long nights filled with textbooks and cookie dough ice cream, the two girls silently laying on Sam's bedroom floor as they attempted to cram as much information back in their brains as possible.

Santana and Brittany had started speaking again, if only because Brittany had cornered her at the locker before Regionals and told her she missed her. Santana missed her too. So much.

Speaking inevitably led to sex, as it so often does, but unlike before, both girls now knew where they stood. It was now a much more desperate act every time they kissed, or touched, or held each other. Santana took every bit of Brittany she could get, while she could get her. Brittany thought Santana tasted lonely. It was all a bit unsettling for Santana. She felt very vulnerable.

* * *

Santana was walking down the hallway one afternoon when she spotted something odd. Sam Evans was bent over the water fountain, having a drink and Karofsky….was checking him out? No. Way. Oh, this made so much sense! Santana smirked. Time for Aunty Tana to have a little chat with Mr. Karofsky.

After a brief lunch date in which Santana manipulated and blackmailed like a pro, she had the perfect beard: a new football player boyfriend who wouldn't be all over her to make out all the time because he was just as gay as she was. She smirked. Oh, she was good.

Sam raised an eyebrow when she heard the news (she really had to stop that, Santana thought, it was like Quinn was giving her lessons) but she said nothing. Santana was glad for it. There was only so much self acceptance a girl could be forced into at one time.

But of course, because God had decided he had a sense of humor, that week in Glee Club was focused on "Born This Way". How much more self acceptance could you get? As a result, Santana went on a bit of a rant, calling out the flaws of everyone in Glee Club, pointing out that everyone has things about them they'd like to change. She pointedly ignored the looks both Sam and Brittany were giving her. Whatever. They knew she was right.

When Schuester told everyone that they were to put a trait they didn't like about themselves on a shirt, Santana scoffed. This was ridiculous. She was _not_ coming out via clothing. So when it was her turn to make a shirt, she typed in the letters B – I – T – C – H and pronounced it perfect.

* * *

The next morning she was standing with Brittany at her locker when the blonde turned to her and unzipped her jacket. "Do you like my shirt for Glee club?" The shirt read **"I'm with Stoopid"**.

Santana smiled. "It's perfect. Check out mine." She unzipped her coat. Brittany just stared. "What? It's perfect. Legend has it that when I came out of my mother I told the nurse she was fat."

"Well, I made a different one for you." Brittany said, pulling a shirt out of her backpack. She held it up so Santana could read, "Lebanese".

Santana blinked. "I'm Hispanic." She looked at Brittany, and then back to the shirt. "Wait," she said, lowering her voice, "was that supposed to be lesbian?"

"Yeah," said Brittany, surprised, looking back at the shirt, "isn't that what it says? When you told me all that stuff the other week it meant so much to me, to see you be so honest, especially because I know how bad it hurt. I was so proud of you."

"Well don't get used to it. And certainly don't even think about telling anyone."

"Why not?" Brittany asked. "You're like the most awesomest girl at this school, why would you try to hide any of that?"

Santana looked away. "I'm dating Karofsky now."

"That's gross."

"You don't get a say in who I date anymore."

"Why not? Because I'm dating somebody? Because you're Lebanese and I think I'm bi-curious?"

Santana crossed her arms. "No. Because I said I love you. You didn't say you love me back."

Brittany slammed her locker shut. "I do love you, clearly you don't love you as much as I do or you'd put this shirt on and dance with me." She threw the "Lebanese" shirt at Santana and walked away, leaving Santana feeling unsure what to do.

Later that day, Santana changed into her "Lebanese" shirt and dragged Karofsky into the auditorium with her. They sat way in the back and watched the Glee kids perform.

Santana watched Brittany dance the whole time.

* * *

A week later, Sam was putting books in her locker when she overheard Artie and Brittany arguing. "No, everybody thinks she's a bad person, but she's not." This was Brittany. _They must be talking about Santana._

"God, Brittany! Why are you so stupid?" At Artie's words, Sam's head jerked around to see Brittany's face crumple.

"You're the only one who never calls me that…" she said, voice breaking. Before either Sam or Artie could make a move towards her, she turned on her heel and ran down the hall.

Sam whipped out her phone and texted Santana.

**To: Santana Lopez  
**_**Brittany crying. Headed towards the Gym. Go find her.**_

She got a reply almost instantly.

**From: Santana Lopez  
**_**Thanks, on it.**_

Sam sighed. Sometimes she wondered what it would be like to have an uneventful life.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Urgh. So I'm not super happy with this chapter. But what can ya do.**

******Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

"So… I think I'm going to sing her a song" Santana said, walking into Sam's room without knocking. Sam, who had been laying on her bed texting Rachel about her ever-tumultuous relationship with Finn, looked up at her.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It's Rumours week and even though I was pissed at her for saying I play for both teams…" Sam tried to hide a smile. The blonde cheerleader's mistake had been funny, and perfectly innocent, but Santana had _not _been amused. "Wheels just blew his chance with her so I want to…you know. Tell her I still want to be with her. And clearly I suck at talking about this stuff, but I _know _I can sing."

"Sweet. You know what you want to sing yet?"

Santana thought for a moment, silently leaning against the doorframe. "Songbird. It kinda fits us, you know?"

"Absolutely. Do it."

Santana nodded, mostly to herself, and said, "I'm kinda…" She glared at Sam. "I will totally deny this if you tell anyone and I _will _go Lima Heights on your ass if you do, but I'm kinda…" her gaze softened. "Nervous."

Sam sat up. "Okay, first of all, you should _really_ know by now that I'm not going to tell anyone. And second of all, I understand, but you have nothing to be nervous about. She said if her and Artie ever weren't together and you were single, she'd be yours. Well. He's no longer a problem and here you are."

Santana looked slightly irritated at the mention of the boy's name. "God, I want to hit him for what he did to Brittany. Do you know how mad it makes me that I can't hit a kid in a wheelchair?"

"Fuming, I'm sure" Sam deadpanned.

"Hell yeah, I'm fuming. You don't call her stupid. You just don't." Her shoulders sagged. "She was so sad, and I couldn't…do anything except hold her…" Her voice trailed off.

Sam stared at the raven-haired girl who was lost in thought. "Santana" she said. The girl looked up. "How long have you been taking care of Brittany?"

"Like, ten years. Why?"

"Exactly. Look. People suck. There is some horrible, mean, awful shit in this world, and yes. Some of it will be aimed at Brittany. But you are an incredibly strong individual. And just the fact that she has you to hold onto, and to beat people's asses when they call her names, makes all the difference in the world. And she knows that. She's literally the smartest person I know when it comes to feelings. So go sing your song to her, and let her know you're trying. The rest will all work out. I promise."

Santana gazed at Sam for a long minute. "You're like a genius, you know that?"

Sam smiled. "Eh. I do my best" she shrugged. "You need a pianist to help you practice?"

"Yeah."

"C'mon. Let's go get your girl."

* * *

After the last note of the song left Santana's lips, the choir room was dead silent. Tears were running down both girls' cheeks as they both got up to hug each other. After a long moment in each other's arms, Brittany pulled away. "So why couldn't you sing me that in front of everybody?" she wondered.

Santana's voice shook, but she held Brittany's gaze. "I'm not ready. Not yet. But I will be. Just…be patient with me?"

Brittany nodded. "I have an idea. Come on Fondue for Two and let me ask you to prom." Santana looked uncertain. "All you have to do is show up and say yes. I'll do the actual asking." Santana nodded slowly, and then smiled. Brittany smiled back, and hugged her again. So far, Sam had been right. Everything was just fine.

* * *

That evening after Cheerio's practice, Santana was in her car, windows rolled down, on the way to Brittany's when she passed by the Berry's house. She slowed the car as she saw a large group of people all crowded in the yard. Some of them were carrying signs that she was still too far away to see.

As she got closer, the words became clearer, and what she saw made her blood run cold. _Gay is not okay. Faggots will burn in hell. Repent now._ The protesters were all chanting and yelling things at the Berry's house. From the other end of the street, a black SUV pulled up to the house and into the driveway. The door opened, and a tall, well-dressed man with curly hair and glasses stepped out. Judging by the argyle sweater vest he was sporting, Santana assumed he could only be one of Rachel's fathers.

The protesters swarmed him and began yelling in his face. Santana couldn't make out what they were saying, but Mr. Berry had a sad, resigned, look on his face. As he pushed through the sea of people to reach his front door, he looked up, and for one brief second made eye contact with Santana. He smiled a sad little smile before he unlocked his door and stepped safely inside his house. The protesters resumed their position on the lawn. Santana stepped on the gas again, and noticed that her hands were shaking.

She couldn't do this. There was no way she would be able to go on Brittany's talk show tonight and out herself to the whole school. Her whole existence at school depended on her being at the top of the food chain. She had seen what had happened to Kurt, and even Quinn for a teen pregnancy. She _couldn't _end up like Rachel's father, sad and resigned to being picked on and abused for something he couldn't help. She couldn't do this.

So, with a wrench in her gut, and her heart in her throat, just as she reached the street that turned onto Brittany's, she pulled the steering wheel sharply to the left and headed for home.

* * *

"What the hell happened?" Sam asked her as she walked into the house. She was still trembling. Santana looked up and met Sam's gaze.

"There were people." She said quietly, "outside the Berry's. They…were yelling. Anti-gay protest stuff…I freaked." She looked at the ground, shoulders hunched. She looked like she wanted to climb inside herself and never come out. She looked at Sam again. "Sam, I…" Her voice broke. Sam stepped forward and took Santana in her arms as she started to cry.

"Shhh…it's okay, San. You're okay." She rocked the girl back and forth, rubbing her back. "You're okay, San. You're gonna be fine."

* * *

Later, after Santana had retreated to her room and locked the door, saying she needed to be alone, Sam turned on her computer and pulled up the newest episode of Fondue for Two. It was clear the blonde was upset, but the worst part for Sam was that she didn't even look surprised that Santana had disappointed her. She had expected it. Sam pulled out her phone and texted Brittany.

**To: Brittany Pierce  
**_**You okay?**_

**From: Brittany Pierce  
**_**I'll b fine…what happened? She wouldnt tell me.**_

**To: Brittany Pierce  
**_**Anti Gay Protest outside the Berry's. She freaked. She's still terrified, Britt. Of all of it.**_

**From: Brittany Pierce  
**_**She shouldnt b! Sans smart and awesome and it doesn't matter that shes Lebanese.**_

**To: Brittany Pierce  
**_**I know that and you know that, Britt. She'll get there eventually… you gotta give her some time, okay?**_

**From: Brittany Pierce  
**_**...I kno shes my best friend and I kno its hard…but its hard for me 2. Im kinda tired of her not seeing how great she is.**_

**To: Brittany Pierce  
**_**…I know Britt. I'm sorry. Neither of you should have to deal with this.**_

* * *

After an hour, Sam figured Brittany wasn't going to text back. She needed to clear her head. With a sigh, she scrolled through her contacts list and eventually stopped when her thumb hovered over Quinn Fabray's name. After a moment of deliberation, she hit the Call button. The phone rang for a while, but eventually went to voicemail. Sam hung up without leaving a message, and flopped backwards on her bed.

This whole thing was spiraling. Santana and Brittany were perfect for each other, anyone could see that. But until Santana was happy with herself, there was no way she would be able to be happy with Brittany. And until that happened, everyone involved was going to be miserable.

Sam sighed again, and got up to change her clothes. Maybe going on a run would help her figure out a way to help.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: So, I'm assuming everyone's seen this episode, but Finn gets kicked out of prom for fighting with Rachel's date, Jesse. Just in case you were in the dark. Also, Spanish is as follows: Maquillaje (makeup), Fotos (Photos), and "Ustedes van a parecer tan bonitas" (You two are going to look so beautiful!)**

**School is ending soon for these guys, and Brittany and Santana got together in the summer before their senior year...almost there, guys. It'll be a summer to remember. I want to thank everyone who's hung in there, because yes, it's been an agonizingly long wait. Within the next 2 chapters, stuff will get dramatic. Anyway, review, and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

It was the day before prom and Sam still hadn't figured out how to help Santana and Brittany. Santana had, as predicted, retreated into her heterosexual relationship by making it as obvious as possible in the public eye of McKinley, and, when possible, Brittany. She hadn't given up entirely though. Sam was the only one who knew about Santana's scheme to win Prom Queen in the hopes of winning Brittany over. The Latina had bullied Karofsky into apologizing to Kurt so he'd return to school. This done, Santana had the football player join her in organizing the "Bully Whips", a hall monitor-esque system so Kurt would continue to feel safe back at his old school. She had, rather cleverly, Sam thought, figured that the best way to win was by getting the vote of the underdogs with Kurt's return.

Santana wasn't the only one going crazy for Prom Queen though. Quinn was working all-out to make sure she got the crown she wanted. Lauren Zizes too, had tossed her hat in the ring. Things had gotten ugly, and fast. Somehow, Zizes had found out about Quinn's fat, spotty, braces-wearing middle school self, and had posted pictures of "Lucy Caboosy Fabray" all over school. Quinn had, predictably, lost it. Suprisingly though, this backfired on Zizes as all the less popular girls in school decided to vote for Quinn, because her metaphorical rags to riches tale was obviously an example of what they could aspire to be. Sam shook her head at this recollection as she walked to her locker. She pitied every boy in the school during prom season. Girls could be seven shades of insane.

As she entered her combination, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see Ben standing beside her with a smile on his face. "Hey" he greeted her.

Sam smiled back. "Hey Ben. What's up?"

The boy looked at her for a second, then asked "Do…do you have a prom date yet?"

Sam stopped, startled at the question. "Um…no…but…still gay, Ben."

The boy chuckled. "Yes. That I knew. I was just wondering if you wanted to go anyway. As friends. I'd get a hot girl to go with, and you'd get a free dinner."

Sam looked at him, considering his proposal. "I'd love to…but are _you _sure you wanna go?"

He tilted his head. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Well," she responded, "there are plenty of girls here who would love to go with you. You're cute, and funny, and nice. I just feel like by asking me you're going to be the only guy on prom night who doesn't get laid. And," she chuckled, "that just doesn't seem fair."

Ben broke into a grin. "Actually, as long as Jacob Ben Israel draws breath, I'm fairly certain that's going to be an untrue statement." Sam laughed. "But really…" he trailed off. Ben looked at her for a long moment, weighing his words. "Can I tell you something?" he asked. "That you can't tell anyone else?"

"I'm a vault." she responded.

Ben took a breath. "Okay, so…I'm kinda…a really strong Christian." Sam's eyebrows went up. "Yeah. I know right? Doesn't seem like it. I go to parties with the guys, and I talk about girls and stuff, but…I've never actually slept with anybody. I kinda…want my first time to be on my wedding night." He looked at her face intently, judging her reaction.

"Okay…so…you're going with me because…" she responded.

"Well…no one expects me to have sex with you. It's one thing for a girl to be a virgin but it's a lot less cool if you're a guy. If I go with you, I get to hang out with you, which is cool, cause you're awesome, but no one will be like "Bro, did you score? How many times?" It just takes the pressure off, you know?"

Sam smiled at him. "Yes. In that case, I will definitely go with you."

"Sweet." Ben said. "Pick you up at 6?"

"Yes. And Ben?" she said, as he turned to go, "Someday you're going to find an amazing Christian girl to share all that with you. And it's going to be awesome. Because she's gonna be hot as hell."

He laughed, and offered her his fist to pound. "Count on it. Thanks Sam."

"Don't mention it, man."

* * *

When prom night finally arrived, Mrs. Lopez managed to prove that every cliché ever invented about mothers on prom night was perfectly true. Santana had told her that Sam had come over to get ready, as the girls still hadn't told Santana's parents about Sam's new living arrangements. Mrs. Lopez had then lit up in delight, speaking very rapidly in Spanish about _maquillaje_ and _fotos_ and "_Ustedes van a parecer tan bonitas!_"

At 5:45, the two girls were still upstairs getting ready. Santana emerged from the bathroom in a long, red, silky dress, and walked over to Sam, who was sitting on Santana's bed in a floor length dress of dark purple, doing her makeup. "Zip me up, would you?" Santana said. Sam looked up at her. And then down. And then back up again. She raised an eyebrow.

"Damn, girl." Santana just rolled her eyes and turned around, lifting her hair off her back.

"Yes, I know I look hot. Zip me up?" Sam laughed.

"Well your ego clearly needs no boosting." She pulled the zipper up, closing it. Santana turned back around. "Seriously though?" Sam said, in a more serious tone, "You look great. I know who you're really trying to look good for tonight, and it isn't Karofsky. You're gonna knock her off her feet, don't worry."

Santana gave a small smile, and simply said a quiet, "Thanks." Then, more back in character, demanded "Bish, gives me back my mascara. I needs to do my face." Sam, naturally, obliged.

* * *

Both Karofsky and Ben arrived on time to pick the girls up, surprising the girls with a limo they had rented for the four of them. ("Hellz yeah!" Santana had exclaimed.) After the obligatory picture session, the teenagers piled in the car and headed to Breadstix. There, they ran into some of the other Glee kids, though, thankfully, not Artie or Brittany, which Sam was grateful for.

Everyone arrived at prom soon after, and Santana immediately went out on the floor to dance. Sam hung back by the snack table, where she ran into Brittany, who was glaring pointedly at the chocolate fondue fountain.

"Hey Sam!" the blonde said brightly upon seeing her, giving her a hug. "You look totally hot, by the way." Sam chuckled.

"Thanks, Britt. You do too. How come you're over here, and not dancing?"

The blonde glanced around them, and then leaned closer to Sam when she was sure no one was listening. "I'm trying to sabotage the fondue fountain. I brought fireworks for an assassination." She said, just loud enough that Sam could hear her over the music.

Sam tried to swallow her smile. "Um…kay…why?" she asked.

"Lord Tubbington told me that fondue fountains are actually the ninjas of the Transformers race, and in the night, they do battle with one another. Having a fondue fountain this close to the one I have at home makes me worried it's going to come to my house and destroy _my _fondue fountain. I need it for my show." the blonde said, like this was the most logical explanation in the world. Sam nodded, as if this made sense, but her mind was racing to figure out a way to keep Brittany from blowing up the entire snack table. Suddenly, as her eyes landed on the fountain's brand name logo, she had an idea.

"Wait, he told you about the brand rule, right?" she asked the cheerleader.

Brittany looked intrigued. "No. What is it?"

Sam put a very serious look on her face. "Well, Lord Tubbington is right about them doing battle. But a long time ago, they started battling so much that there were only a few left of each type. So they made a pact that they would only fight fountains of other brands. You have a Deckman fountain, right?"

Brittany nodded. "Well that one's a Deckman too, look." Brittany peered at the machine, eyes widening in understanding. "It's not going to fight yours, Britt. I guarantee it."

Brittany looked appraisingly at the other girl. "That's a relief. I'm glad you told me... I'm sure my fountain would have been really upset if I had killed a member of his family. Thanks, Sam." Sam smiled.

"Not a problem."

The blonde girl smiled from ear to ear. "I'm gonna go throw these fireworks away and go dance. See you later, Sam!" she exclaimed, and with that, she disappeared into the crowd. Sam shook her head. Brittany was, without a doubt, one of a kind.

* * *

Principal Figgins announced Karofsky as Prom King, and then it was the Queen's turn. Sam watched as Santana's (and Quinn's) face rose, and then fell as Figgins announced that Kurt Hummel had won Prom Queen.

It was obviously meant to be a joke, but no one knew what to do, and there was a suffocating silence following the announcement. Both Santana and Quinn raced off the stage. Sam watched Quinn head towards the science hallway, (followed closely by...Rachel Berry?). Santana had headed towards the music hall, and, rather than stay in the extremely awkward situation that was happening in the gym, Sam followed her.

As she turned the corner, she saw a classroom's door shut. _That must have been where Santana went_, Sam thought. She headed towards it, but just as she was about to grasp the door handle, she heard voices from inside the room. More specifically, Brittany's and Santana's. Instead of opening the door, she paused and listened. Santana was saying something.

"…They must have sensed that I was a lesbian. I mean, they must have. Do I smell like a golf course?" Sam snorted quietly. Now Brittany was talking.

"People don't know what you're hiding, they just…they know that you're not being yourself. If you were to embrace all the awesomeness that you are, you would have won."

A pause.

"How do you know?"

"Because I voted for you. And because I believe in you, Santana."

Another pause.

"This prom sucks…Now what am I supposed to do?"

"Go back out there and be there for Kurt. This is gonna be a lot harder for him than it is for you." Sam heard the sound of Santana blowing her nose, and then Santana's voice again.

"Yeah…Thank you Britt. For everything."

"I'm always here for you Santana. That's never going to change."

The room fell silent and Sam figured the two girls were embracing. She smiled and headed back to the gym before the cheerleaders came out of the classroom. Brittany was right. Santana did just need to love herself more. Brittany's ability to see everything so simply, yet so clearly, never failed to astound Sam. A little self-love would fix this whole mess…eventually. For the moment however, and based on the way the cheerleaders had been making out when she left, Sam was pretty certain that self-love would not be what Santana would be receiving that night, so she sent two quick texts.

**To: Quinn Fabray  
**_**Hey…know it's been a rough night for you…B and S are…bonding tonight and I was wondering if I could crash at your place. Company might cheer you up?**_

Her response came quickly.

**From: Quinn Fabray  
**_**Sure…Finn drove me though, and he obviously isn't here to take me home…can we ride in your car?**_

**To: Quinn Fabray**_**  
****Yeah, Ben and I still have the limo, and we're the only ones using it. Meet me out front.**_

**From: Quinn Fabray  
**_**K**_

Sam opened a new message, and headed towards the front doors as she typed.

**To: Santana Lopez  
**_**Sleeping over at Quinn's…bring Britt home. You need tonight. I'll see you tomorrow.**_

Santana too, responded surprisingly fast.

**From: Santana Lopez  
**_**Thanks… Britt's taking me home…you okay for a ride?**_

**To: Santana Lopez  
**_**Yeah. Still got the limo. I'll call you in the morning, yeah?**_

**From: Santana Lopez  
**_**Yeah. But I swear to God, Pearson, if you call before 11, I'm killing you in your sleep.**_

**To: Santana Lopez**_**  
****You should know by now that there's no way in hell I'd be up that early anyway. Sweet dreams, Lopez…if you sleep at all tonight.**_

Santana smirked and put her phone back in her purse, linking pinkies with Brittany as they headed to her car. Sam was right. She needed tonight. She needed tonight to just…be. So that was exactly what she would do.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: I think there's a direct correlation between the amount of work I have to do and the amount I write...just not the correlation you would expect. So I did this instead of writing a paper I have due tomorrow...go procrastination.**

**When I read over this, I realized there's some sprinklings of Faberry, which was unintentional. Regardless of how you feel about them, (you either love 'em or you hate 'em) it's really hard to deny that Quinn and Rachel have weird borderline moments throughout the 2nd and 3rd season. So that's there. Feel free to interpret as you see fit. This is a Brittana fic. Other things just happen. **

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

Rachel Berry had gone insane.

Well, that was Santana's opinion, anyway. The small brunette had been a tiny, unstoppable ball of energy for the past week in anticipation of Nationals, which were only days away.

"Nobody is to strain their vocals before we compete this weekend." she barked at them during rehearsal. "Brittany and Mike, while I appreciate and encourage the need to practice, take extra care not to injure yourselves while doing so. Mercedes, have you perfected your harmonizing abilities yet? I'd like to hear you perform sometime this week."

Not even the band escaped Rachel's criticisms. "Brad, while I understand that playing the A minor chord may be easier with regards to the previous chord, the relative major would sound better with Finn's voice, while still fitting the rest of the music. Now, Mr. Schue…"

Santana drowned her out and looked over at Sam, who looked as bored as she felt. She pulled out her phone and texted her.

**To: Sam Pearson  
**_**If she keeps talking I might have to kill her.**_

She pressed send, and saw the other girl open the message and grin. Sam quickly typed back, and Santana's phone buzzed quietly.

**From: Sam Pearson  
**_**Now now, Santana, that wouldn't be very conducive to her "fail safe plan to win Nationals".**_

**To: Sam Pearson  
**_**Her bossing everyone around isn't very conducive to my mental health.**_

**From: Sam Pearson  
**_**Hmm, yes. That's on the edge already, wouldn't want to push it.**_

Santana looked up at the musician in indignation. The other girl was trying her hardest not to laugh. Santana typed back furiously.

**To: Sam Pearson  
**_**Shut the fuck up, Pearson. I'm a lot of things, but crazy does ****not**** run in the Lopez family. Check yourself.**_

Santana looked up at Sam expecting a witty retort, but instead, the other girl had a shocked and deeply troubled look on her face. Sam looked back at Santana and held her gaze for a moment, and then put her phone back in her pocket. Santana's confusion only lasted a second before she realized what she had just said. She sent another message.

**To: Sam Pearson  
**_**Hey…shit. That's not what I meant…I'm sorry Sam. I swear I didn't mean to bring him up.**_

Santana saw the other girl take out her phone again and read her message. She smiled sadly, and sent a reply.

**From: Sam Pearson  
**_**I know. Don't worry, It's not that.**_

Santana tilted her head and looked at the other girl, not bothering to put her question into words. Sam replied again.

**From: Sam Pearson  
**_**He called me this morning. He wants to talk.**_

Santana's eyes widened.

**To: Sam Pearson  
**_**What the fuck? Why didn't you tell me? You're not going to see him, are you?**_

**From: Sam Pearson  
**_**You had practice this morning. I haven't seen you all day. And no…he's gonna call me next week. After Nationals. Just to talk…**_

Santana didn't know what to say. On the one hand, she wanted the other girl to be able to fix things with her dad, because she knew that was still a source of pain for her. On the other hand, there was no way in hell Santana would be able to forgive him for what he did to her friend, and every cell in her body violently objected to the idea of Sam getting anywhere near him. Finally, she decided on a response.

**To: Sam Pearson  
**_**We'll talk more later…I think Berry might actually let us practice now. But I swear to God, Sam, if you go anywhere near him without bringing at least me and Brittany or Quinn with you…**_

Sam nodded at her.

**From: Sam Pearson  
**_**I know. I won't. Thank you.**_

As Santana put her phone away, she once again focused her attention on Rachel, who was indeed getting ready to start rehearsal for real.

"And with that in mind, let's run things from the top!"

Santana groaned inwardly. It was going to be a long afternoon.

* * *

The bus ride to Nationals was a rough 10 hours, and by the end of the journey, most of the Glee kids were ready to kill the person sitting next to them.

Everyone was ready to kill Rachel.

"Mr. Schue, I am all about some team bonding, but I swear to God if you put me in a room with Berry I will murder her." Santana said as they all walked into the lobby of the hotel.

Mr. Schuester looked awkwardly at Santana. He didn't quite know what to do with this information. Another thing he hadn't really thought about were room assignments. Half the club was dating one another, so his first instinct had been to split them up by gender, which he had done, but…he didn't doubt that putting Santana and Rachel in the same room would be problematic, and he was aware of what Brittany and Santana got up to in their spare time. He wasn't stupid. Fortunately, he was saved from answering by Sam Pearson cutting in.

"Calm your tits, Santana. We're all tired. We only have money for two hotel rooms, so unless you wanna sleep with the boys…" she trailed off.

Santana let out a signature sigh and eye roll and responded. "Whatever. But if you so much as mention Barbra Streisand, Berry, I _will_ ends you. And I'm not doing no Broadway meditation exercises either." With this, she grabbed her room key from the concierge with one hand, Brittany's hand with the other, and headed towards the elevator, clearly intent on picking the best bed first. Quinn, accustomed to this behavior, but not about to lose out on a good bed to Santana, followed close behind.

Schuester was at a bit of a loss for any response to this other than "Um, yeah. Okay guys. Straight to bed, and get some sleep. We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow." The Glee kids filed into the elevator, and said good night to each other as they separated into their rooms.

Kurt could be heard arguing with Mr. Schue about being forced to room with the boys, but the teacher was very adamant about the assigned rooms. Sam was fairly certain Kurt would find a way to sneak into Mercedes and Tina's bed before the night was over. As for herself, Sam walked into the girls' room after everyone else, by which point the only sleeping space left available was the couch. Having slept on much worse, (her car, for starters) she shrugged her bag off her shoulder, and collapsed on the piece of furniture.

Glancing at the bathroom, she saw that there were at least 4 girls fighting over the sink. Getting ready for bed would have to wait. Sam looked around the room and absently noticed that Brittany and Santana had disappeared. She also noticed that Quinn's stuff was on Rachel's bed. That was interesting.

Sam felt her eyelids getting heavier and heavier as she lay her head back. Maybe getting ready for bed would have to take a backseat tonight. A few seconds later, and she was out like a light, oblivious to everything else that happened for the rest of that evening. She was unaware of Mercedes and Tina's argument over who would sleep on which side of the bed, Kurt sneaking in after all the lights had been turned off, and of Brittany and Santana sneaking in even later. By midnight, all the girls were asleep, exhausted by the excitement of the impending competition and of being in New York.

* * *

The following day passed in a blur as the Glee kids struggled to write songs for their upcoming performance. This ended up being a massive failure, and everyone just gave up to go explore the city, hoping for some inspiration from the streets. When they came back to the room later, Rachel was notably absent. It didn't take long for everyone to find out that she was on a date with Finn. At this news, everyone rolled their eyes. However, Sam noticed something odd. Instead of joining the rest of the group in lamenting about the serial dating pattern that Finn and Rachel were developing, Quinn got up and went outside.

* * *

The next morning Sam woke up with a crick in her neck. The couch _was _actually significantly less comfortable than her car.

Everyone was already downstairs having breakfast. After showering and dressing quickly, she headed towards the lobby, running into Kurt and Rachel coming out of the elevator. The two divas were discussing their morning. Apparently they had had breakfast at Tiffany's, (really though, who was surprised?) and then sang in an empty Broadway Theater. As the doors closed, she heard snippets of their plans for next year; they both wanted to move to New York permanently. _Now there's an idea,_ Sam thought. She would have to run it past Santana…New York seemed a good fit for the Latina.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Brittany, Santana, and Quinn were the only occupants of the girls' room. However, Quinn had been in the bathroom for a solid half hour, and Santana was getting annoyed. She banged on the door. "Quinn!" she yelled. "Quit hogging the bathroom. I needs to re-pencil my eyebrows on."

The door handle turned as Quinn emerged, face closed off and eyes red. Santana looked at her expectantly, arms crossed, as if asking for an explanation. Quinn offered none, but simply said with a disinterested tone, "It's all yours."

Santana couldn't resist a dig, wondering what had the blonde so upset. "Everybody's already in the other room working."

"Oh yeah?" Quinn shot back. "Is Mr. Schue in there? Cause I think I'm going to tell him that Rachel and Kurt keep sneaking off."

"You can't do that," said Brittany, visibly worried. "He'll suspend them."

"And then there goes our chances at Nationals," Quinn responded sarcastically. "Darn."

Irritated at both Quinn's attitude with Brittany and her nonchalance about Nationals, Santana stepped in. "You know what? We get it. You're pissed about Finn dumping your sweet ass. Get over it."

The blonde glared at her. "I don't want to get over it!" she snapped.

"The only person you're sabotaging here is yourself," Santana replied.

"I don't _care_ about some _stupid_ show choir competition," Quinn practically yelled.

"Well you should, because this is the one chance we have to actually feel good about ourselves." Santana shot back.

Quinn looked out the window, and then spoke again, much quieter this time. "Aren't we supposed to be the popular girls?" she asked. "So why can't we be the ones to have our dreams come true?"

Santana felt like she had been punched in the gut. Quinn had a point.

The blonde wasn't done. "She _has_ love. Tina has it. Even Zizes hooks up."

Santana didn't know what to say. She knew exactly what Quinn was talking about. She was Santana fucking Lopez, dammit, and _Rachel Berry_ had someone to love while she… didn't. The worst part was, she knew exactly who she wanted, and it was her own goddamn insecurities that were keeping her from having her. She glanced over at Brittany, who was staring at the floor intently.

The two of them had snuck out the first night because Brittany had wanted to "watch the New York stars. They're different from Ohio stars, San". They had ended up having sex on the roof, but after, as they lay on the blanket they had laid out, and Santana held Brittany in her arms, listening to the sounds of the city and Brittany's slow breathing, it hit Santana harder than ever how much she really, truly loved this girl. That night, after they had snuck back into the hotel room and had gotten into bed, Santana pulled Brittany tight to her chest until she could feel the other girl's heart beat in time with her own. Only after they were in perfect sync did Santana feel safe enough to close her eyes and fall asleep.

Santana was pulled out of her thoughts as Quinn moved to sit on the bed. She had started to cry again. "I just want somebody to love me." She whispered.

Santana and Brittany sat down on either side of her, and Brittany began stroking her hair. For all of the shit they put each other through, Santana and Quinn really did love each other, and though she would never admit it, it hurt Santana to see Quinn this broken.

She watched Brittany's fingers running through Quinn's blonde hair for a while, mulling things over. Suddenly, she had an idea.

"I think I know how to make you feel better." she told Quinn.

"I'm flattered, Santana," said Quinn through her tears. "But I'm really not that into that."

Santana paused, confused, and then Quinn's words hit her. "No." she blurted out. "I'm not talking about _that_…I'm talking about a haircut."

"Yes, totally!" Brittany agreed, smiling.

Quinn looked at her friends, tears still running down her face, and smiled back. "Okay." she said.

* * *

The rest of the weekend passed without incident until Nationals itself. Finn and Rachel were performing their duet as rehearsed, until suddenly…they were kissing.

Santana, Brittany and Artie moved as swiftly as they could into the next number, but there had been a solid minute of awkward silence throughout the entire theater. New Directions did an amazing job with the rest of their numbers, but the moment of unprofessionalism had cost them.

After all their careful planning and rehearsing, they only placed 12th out of 50, which was pretty good, all things considered, but they needed at least 10th to move on. Everyone was devastated, and more than a little pissed with Finn and Rachel, but Santana absolutely lost it once they got back to the hotel room. Quinn, Mike, _and _Sam Evans all had to hold her back as she cussed Rachel out in Spanish, and she _still_ almost broke free.

On the bus ride home, everyone was notably subdued. All their hard work had come to nothing. All the Glee kids kept to themselves on the way back to Lima; there was almost no conversation.

However, Sam, Quinn, and Brittany all had to keep an eye on Santana. Every time the bus stopped for gas, the Latina tried to make sure Rachel got left behind.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Spanish in this chapter is simple: ¿Hablas Inglés? = Do you speak English? Yay drama. Here we go.**

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

One week after Nationals, it was the last day of school, and Santana and Brittany were standing side by side at Santana's locker. The blonde turned to her friend as the girl pulled a small doll out of the locker and asked, "You still pissed?"

The Hispanic girl shrugged. "Do you think this voodoo doll looks enough like Rachel Berry to actually work?" she asked.

Brittany smiled wryly. "C'mon." she said. "We can't be mad at Rachel forever."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Uh… yes. We can." She looked at her friend. "How can you possibly be so calm?" she asked indignantly.

Brittany looked at her and shrugged. "I don't know…I hated losing just as much as everyone, but this year wasn't about… winning for me."

Santana scoffed and said sharply, "Clearly. Cause we got our asses kicked."

Brittany fell silent, looking away, then gave a short "Yeah."

Santana glanced at her. She could tell that the blonde was irritated. She had been trying to make a point, and there was Santana, acting like a child. The Latina cleared her throat and then said more softly, "Sorry…What was it about?"

Brittany gave her a small smile. "Acceptance. All the kids in Glee, they…fight, and they…steal each others' boyfriends and girlfriends, and they threaten to quit like every other week, but stuff like that happens in families."

"Yeah, well this is a club, this is not a family." Santana said shortly.

Brittany sighed and moved to stand directly in front of Santana. "Yeah, well, family is a place where everyone loves you no matter what, and they accept you for who you are."

Santana swallowed as Brittany went on. "I know I'm going to be a bridesmaid at Mike and Tina's wedding, and I know I'm going to be anxiously awaiting, just like everyone else, to see if their babies are Asian, too." Santana smiled. "When they find an operation to make Artie's legs work again, I'm going to be there for his first steps. I love them. I love everyone in Glee Club. And I get to spend another year with everyone I love so…I'm good."

Santana gazed at the other girl for a moment before asking, "What about…you and I?"

Without missing a beat, Brittany answered. "I love you, Santana. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone else in this world. All I know about you and I is, because of that, I think anything's possible." Both girls smiled, and moved to hug each other.

"You're my best friend." said Santana, her arms wrapped around Brittany's neck, and her face buried in her shoulder.

"Yeah, me too." Brittany responded. The two girls held each other for a beat longer, until Santana couldn't take the intensity of the moment and pulled back. She forced a smile at the other girl.

"When did you get so smart?" she asked. Brittany simply shrugged, and Santana smiled again, a real one this time, as she took Brittany's pinky and they walked together to the last class of the school year.

* * *

It was 2 weeks into summer vacation, and Santana was bored.

"Why is there nothing to do in this goddamn town?" she lamented, wandering into Sam's room one night. The other girl looked up casually from the book she was reading. She was stretched out on her bed, enjoying the air-conditioning, and clearly was not having the same problem Santana was having.

"Santana, we've only been out of school for 2 weeks. How could you possibly be bored?"

"I don't know." the other girl whined. You work all day during the week, and Britt's at her grandparents' till Saturday…even Quinn's gone off the radar. I'm _bored_." She repeated.

Sam sighed, and closed her book. "You need a hobby." The Latina looked less than thrilled with the idea.

"Like what?" she asked.

"I dunno…something you like to do. Write a song. Work out. Terrorize some children. At least until Saturday."

Santana shot her a look, but she did get Sam's point. The other girl worked at Breadstix, Monday to Friday, from noon till 9 or 10. The Latina was stuck in the big house all by herself, much like she had done before Sam moved in, and she hated it. If there was one thing she was grateful for, it was that Sam's dad was a giant asshole so that she finally wasn't alone all of the time.

_Wait. Sam's dad_. She had never found out if he had called her.

"Hey." She said to the other girl, who had gone back to reading.

Sam looked up at her again. "Yes?"

"You never told me what happened when your dad called you."

Sam shifted and looked away. "Oh. That."

"Yes. That. So what happened?" Sam thought a while before responding. She knew how Santana felt about her father, and once her protective streak came out, it was a force to be reckoned with. Besides, she really didn't feel like being lectured on the subject. It had been enough of a challenge getting Quinn to back off the subject of reporting things to the police all those months ago.

"Well…" she said slowly, avoiding eye contact, "He called me. And we talked. He said he wanted to meet me."

Santana tensed. "You better have said no." she growled. Sam looked at her defiantly.

"I said yes."

Santana let out a sigh. "What the fuck were you thinking?" she asked. "You need to stay the hell away from that douchebag. Like, far, far away."

"I can do what I want, Santana. Besides, we met for coffee on Wednesday and it was fine." Sam said lightly, eyes going back to her book. Santana stood up.

"Excuse you?" she said sharply.

Sam finally stood up too, crossing her arms. "We. Met. For. Coffee. It. Was. Fine. _¿Hablas Inglés?_" She said sarcastically. Santana narrowed her eyes, ignoring the comment.

"Sam. The guy is scum. He. Hit. You. Over and over. And you want to just grab coffee and act like everything's okay?"

"I'm not acting like everything's okay, Santana!" Sam said, her voice rising. "I understand what happened, alright? But he's the only family I have left, and if I don't try to fix this, I won't have any at all. Do you get that? I can't let that happen, Santana. I can't." She gave the other girl one last look before heading towards the door. "Just leave me alone. I can take care of myself."

Santana stood in place, listening to the sound of Sam's footsteps going down the stairs, the front door slamming, and then finally her car driving away, leaving the house in silence. Santana ran her hand through her hair and sighed. _No you can't, dumbass. And you'd have me._

* * *

It was late when Santana heard Sam's car pull into the driveway a few hours later. Both the Lopez parents were at a medical conference in Columbus, so Sam didn't have to worry about sneaking through a window like she sometimes did. Santana was sitting in the living room, watching TV, and Sam opened the front door, walked right past her, and up the stairs without so much as a glance. Neither girl said a word, and their silence continued all through the next day. Sam was mad at Santana for lecturing her and Santana was mad that Sam wouldn't listen.

Santana did, however, want to know more about the situation with Sam's dad. Now that she knew they were talking, (and meeting, apparently) she was worried that Sam would do something really stupid and get hurt. She had texted Brittany about the situation, and she shared her concern, but the blonde couldn't do much until she returned on Saturday, and it was only Tuesday. She had then texted Quinn, who also shared her concerns, and agreed to help keep an eye on Sam.

Before Sam woke up Wednesday morning, Santana snuck into her room and stole her phone. After 10 minutes and a lot of guesswork, she finally managed to guess the unlock pattern to Sam's phone. Santana then began going through her messages. There was nothing from her dad, but at the very top was a recent thread between Sam and that Ben kid she talked to sometimes. Santana opened it, and began to read. The oldest messages were irrelevant, all stuff about homework or music, but Sam had sent a text after storming out yesterday, so Santana started from there.

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**Hey, you around?**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**Yeah...trying to write this paper. S'up?**_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**Ehh...just had a fight with Santana.**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**Ouch. And you're still alive?**_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**Very funny sir. Yes.**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**What was it about? **_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**My dad.**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**Oh...what about him?**_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**I...told you why I'm living with Santana, right?**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**Yeah...your dad's a dick and he wasn't taking care of you.**_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**Yeah. Well...he was also..kinda...abusive.**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**...What.**_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**Yeah.**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**How?**_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**He hit me.**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**Jesus Christ, Sam. Did you tell anybody?**_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**Santana. Brittany and Quinn know too.**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**I meant an adult.**_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**No. and you have to promise me you won't either.**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**...I won't tell. but you have to.**_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**It's not a problem anymore. You know what, never mind.**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**...look, I'm sorry. What were you fighting with Santana about?**_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**He called me. right after Nationals. he said that we should talk. So i met with him for coffee last week and we did.**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**Yeah? How'd it go?**_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**It was okay...it was really weird seeing him... I'm still kinda scared of him. But he just wanted to know how I've been, if I've been living somewhere safe, if I've been taken care of. **_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**Is that all?**_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**Eh. We kinda left it like I would see him again. Potentially. I dunno...maybe he's changed?**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**So what did you and Santana argue about?**_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**She doesn't think he has.**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**...I'm inclined to agree with Santana.**_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**Look, I understand her point. I do. and I appreciate that she cares. But she doesn't get it...my family kinda got blown up over the past year, and if I can fix any part of that, I want to.**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**I do understand that. I don't know exactly what you're going through, and I know you'll figure it out, but as far as Santana goes...She seems to legitimately care about you. You and Brittany are the only ones I've ever seen her not be her usual, crazy, terrifying self around. (Also, if you tell her I called her terrifying, I'll kill you.) But I think she's just trying to help. And...not to take her side, but please be safe...I don't want you to get hurt, and I don't think Santana does either.**_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**Yeah. I know. I will. Thank you.**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**Anytime. So, are you supposed to meet with him again?**_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**Yeah. Friday. We're getting lunch on my lunch break.**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**Hm. well. I hope it goes okay. And maybe you shouldn't be mad at Santana forever. just a suggestion.**_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**I don't think I could be...The girl is incredibly annoying when she wants to be though.**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**Understood. **_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**Well, I think I'm gonna head home...Thanks, Ben.**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**No problem, Sam. Let me know how it goes.**_

**To: Ben Riggins**  
_**Will do. Night!**_

**From: Ben Riggins**  
_**Night. :)**_

Santana glanced at the clock and noted that Sam would be getting up soon. Putting the phone back where she found it, she pulled out her own phone and texted Quinn to tell her to come with her to spy on Sam on Friday. As she left the other girl's room, she thought about the conversation she had just read. The boy was a good friend to Sam, and he had taken Santana's side on the issue. That definitely gave him points.

She wished the other girl would stop being so goddamn stubborn though. She also wished Brittany were here. She would be able to get Sam to listen. Brittany had apparently texted Sam, but the blonde was a lot harder to say no to in person. Santana sighed. She would just have to wait and see what Friday would bring.

**Yay, intrigue.  
Pst. Review. I needs me some motivation. :)**


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

"Remind me why we're here again?"

Santana turned to face Quinn. It was Friday, and the two girls had arrived at Breadstix just in time to see Sam and her father leaving together. They had followed them to a Chinese place just outside of Lima, and then had gotten a booth in the very back, in the darkest corner of the restaurant. Coach Sylvester had often made the two girls go on "Recon Missions" to spy on other cheerleading squads, so both were very good at remaining hidden to their targets, but Quinn was less than thrilled about the idea of spying on their friend.

"I'll come with you Santana, but just to make sure you don't do anything stupid" she had said. "He's not going to beat her in public."

"We're here in case anything happens." Santana said, glancing back at the table where Sam and her father sat. From their position, the cheerleaders could clearly see both of the Pearson's faces, but they themselves remained hidden behind a large fichus tree. Things seemed to be going well so far, but Santana remained on high alert.

After over fifteen minutes of watching Santana stare unblinkingly across the room to where Sam and her father were talking, Quinn sighed. "Santana." The Latina didn't move. "Santana." She tried, a bit more loudly. Still no response. Giving up, she kicked the other girl sharply under the table.

"_Mierda_!" Santana swore, finally looking at Quinn. "What the hell was that for?"

"You're obsessing."

"I am not!" she exclaimed. "Do you honestly trust this guy with her?"

"No." Quinn replied, "but neither do I think she needs to be babysat. She lives with you, she's safe now, and he'd have to be a complete idiot to hurt her in public. Why are you so worried about this?"

"Why aren't you?"

"No," Quinn said again. "Why are you _SO_ worried about this?"

Santana stared at the blonde for a moment. She narrowed her eyes at Quinn, who simply arched an eyebrow in response. Santana sighed. When she spoke again, it was much quieter. "Fine. There's a few reasons. First, Britt's gone and I miss her. I feel like Sam's all I've got right now and I want to protect that."

Quinn felt an unexpected pang at Santana's words. She didn't really expect the other girl to value her as much as she did Sam and Brittany, but weirdly, the comment still hurt.

"Secondly…" Santana trailed off. "I didn't see it last time. Brittany saw it, you saw it, and I didn't even…try. I just feel like…if he tries anything again…I want to be there to stop it before it happens. To make up for last time. She's really important to me Quinn. I always wanted a sister and now I've got one and I can't let him hurt her."

She paused. Breaking eye contact, she began to fiddle with the wrapper of the fortune cookie that was sitting in front of her. "She still has nightmares, you know" she said quietly. "Her room's right next to mine, and I hear her some nights. I'll go in there and she's curled up in this ball, whimpering. She always laughs it off when she wakes up, but it still hurts her." Santana squared her shoulders. "And I'll be damned if I'm going to let that asshole hurt her again.

Quinn looked at her for a while, considering her words. After a moment, she spoke. "We protect what's ours" she said, echoing a phrase the two of them had come up with freshman year. At the time, they had been talking about Brittany.

Quinn had walked into the first Cheerios practice of the year with only one goal: to rule the school. To do that, she would have to become head Cheerio by the end of the year. Smart as she was, she knew she couldn't do this without help, so she quickly scanned the crowd of freshmen around her and her eyes fell on Santana, standing in the corner with Brittany. As the day progressed she observed the Latina's fiery attitude and Brittany's unassuming ability to get everyone around her to fall at her feet. That, she thought, was exactly what she needed. The hazel-eyed girl had recruited the other two after practice that day and they had been an unstoppable force ever since.

With this bond came an understanding; _we protect what's ours_. Mostly, this referred to Brittany, but it had applied to a few things since; their Cheerios national title, their standing as head bitches on campus, and now, it seemed, it applied to Sam.

Santana smiled softly and repeated Quinn's words. "We protect what's ours." She held out her fist, and Quinn lightly tapped it with her own.

"I just hope you know what you're doing" Quinn said. "You make stupid decisions when it comes to people you care about. First Brittany, now Sam…" she trailed off.

Santana tilted her head. By this point she had removed the fortune cookie from its wrappings, and was absentmindedly twirling it between her fingers. "You make the list too, you know. Occasionally." she said to the blonde.

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Well. Yeah. Cause you're my main bitch and all." Santana shrugged, snapping the cookie in half. "Make no mistake though, I won't hesitate to take you down to get to the top, Fabray." Quinn rolled her eyes, but she got what Santana meant. That was just how they were. It was a strangely comforting relationship. It would always be a constant.

"Right."

"Mm. So are we done with this emotional crap yet?" Santana asked, sounding much more like herself.

Quinn smirked. "Yes. And it appears our subjects are leaving. Shall we?"

Santana stood, dropping both halves of the cookie on the table and pocketing the fortune without glancing at it. "Let's roll."

* * *

While Quinn and Santana were having a conversation on one side of the restaurant, an entirely different conversation was happening in the booth where Sam and her father sat.

They hadn't said much on the way to the restaurant. Once they had arrived, they ordered their food, and once the waiter came and took their menus they were left in an awkward silence.

"So.." Sam said, clearing her throat. "We won Nationals."

"You told me." Her father said shortly. Sam winced. He was right, she had used that as a conversation starter the last time they talked.

Although she would never admit it, Sam had lied to Santana about how things were with her dad. She hadn't even been completely honest with Ben. Her father _had _called her that first time, asking to talk, but as soon as she called him back the day after Nationals, any hopes she had of reconciling were crushed as he informed her he was just calling to tell her he was selling her electronics (for alcohol, presumably) and he needed to know the serial numbers.

She did want to see him again though. Even if he was horrible to her, a small part of her clung to the fact that he was her father, and that he might just remember that fact. So she told him she'd give him the paperwork if he met her for coffee, which he had done. He had, in fact, asked her where she was living, but it seemed to be more for reassurance he would not be getting in trouble if the case happened to be that his daughter was living on the street. The conversation had been stilted, and mostly driven by Sam, and after 20 minutes of forced interaction, Sam had given up and handed over the papers.

She had been delighted when he called her about lunch that Friday, but her hopes were quickly dashed when he informed her that he needed some money. The electronics had only covered part of his debt and as his daughter she owed him, she was informed.

Although she was reluctant to fund his habit, it meant that she would see him again so she had agreed to lunch (which she was buying). She had met him outside Breadstix, and they had driven to the restaurant in which they were currently sitting. In silence.

Sam searched wildly for another conversation topic. "So, do you uh, have a job? Or something that you've been up to?" she asked.

Wrong question.

Her father glared at her and said softly, but intently, "And what the fuck is that supposed to imply, you little smartass? That your old man's lazy? Huh? You must think you're all that, that you're better than me because you've got a job. Well I'll tell you, kid, you're not. You're not worth _shit._" he hissed at her.

Sam cringed away from him. "N-no. That's not what I meant –" she began, but at that point, the food arrived. Giving her one last dirty look, the man opened his chopsticks and she was spared the rest of that conversation.

The two of them finished their meal in silence, and when they were finished, Sam pulled the envelope of money out of her bag and pushed it across the table wordlessly. Her father took it, and, standing, said, "Well, at least you're good for something." He walked out of the restaurant without a backward glance, and after a minute, Sam got up to follow him.

**A/N: So. I was going to start right in on the Brittana, but then this chapter just sort of happened. I felt like inserting a little Santana-Quinn bonding, because they're wonderful when they're not tearing each other's heads off. The story's starting to build again, and the next chapter will be ****_extremely_**** intense. And dark. I think you'll like it though. But you're warned. Stay tuned. (And review!)**

**Spanish: Mierda: Shit **


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

It was Saturday morning. Brittany was coming home in an hour, and Santana could barely contain herself. She was pacing around the living room, checking her phone every few minutes to see if by some miracle Brittany had come home early and texted her.

"Will you chill out? You're giving me motion sickness" Sam called from the couch. She was sprawled across the furniture watching Saturday morning cartoons, and Santana's constant pacing was making it very hard to concentrate.

The two girls had resumed talking the night before. Neither had actually apologized to the other, but Santana felt a little better about things after spying on Sam that afternoon, and Sam had accepted the fact that Santana was just looking out for her. When Sam came home from work Friday night, Santana had asked her if she wanted to watch a movie, and she had agreed.

"I'm sorry!" Santana exclaimed, flopping into an armchair. "She's been gone for two weeks. I need my sweet lady kisses, ASAP."

"Okay, one, overshare" said Sam, sitting up and holding up a hand, "and two, she'll be home in less than an hour. Watch SpongeBob with me. It'll distract you."

"I hate SpongeBob."

Sam considered this. "I do too, actually, but Jimmy Neutron stops playing at 11." She switched off the television, and turned her body to face Santana. "So. Brittany's coming home."

Santana, who had tilted her head back so it was hanging off the back of the chair, lazily flopped her head around to look at the other girl. "Yes? Your point being?"

"So…you no longer have an excuse."

"An excuse for what?"

Sam rolled her eyes. _God, it's like pulling teeth… "_An excuse to avoid things, Santana. It's summer. Nobody from school is around. You both know how you feel about each other. Get your shit together and ask the girl out."

Santana remained silent, looking at the floor.

"Look," Sam said, trying a different tactic. "It's about to be your senior year. You only get one shot at this. Don't you want to go out with a bang? You've spent all of high school at the top of the food chain, and it's made you miserable. You should stop caring so much about what other people think of you, and make yourself happy for once."

Santana looked at the other girl, and had just opened her mouth to speak when her phone rang. It was Brittany. She immediately picked up. "Hey Britt. You home?"

Sam watched Santana as she spoke to Brittany. She had immediately lit up at the sight of Brittany's name on the caller ID, and as she talked to the blonde, the lines of her face relaxed into a soft, easy smile. Sam shook her head. They were so perfect it was almost painful. She smiled and stood, heading into the kitchen to find something to eat. A few minutes later, Santana walked in too.

"She'll be home in twenty minutes. I'm going to go over there to meet her." Santana said, leaning on the counter.

"Alright." Sam replied. "When you're done getting naked, you two should come back here. I miss her too."

"Will do." Santana replied, as she headed towards the door. Remembering something, she stopped. "Oh, hey, Puckerman's having a party on Saturday night. You should come. Most of the Glee kids are going, but there's going to be other kids there too."

Sam nodded. "Alright. Sounds like a plan."

Santana turned to go again. "See you later" she called over her shoulder.

"Use protection!" Sam teased as the other girl walked away. Santana didn't turn around, just responded with a raised middle finger as she walked out the door.

Sam chuckled to herself as her phone buzzed.

She pulled out her phone, her smile slowly fading as she read the message.

**From: Dad  
_Need cash. Bring $500 to the house by Tuesday._**

Sam sighed. What could she do, really? She quickly shot back a text.

**To: Dad  
_K_**

Sam sighed again and ran her fingers through her hair. This was quickly becoming a very stressful situation. _I think I'm going to need this party on Saturday…_

* * *

A few hours later, Santana and Brittany were lying in Brittany's bed, naked, under the covers. The two girls had been ecstatic to see one another (they had never really done well with separation) and had almost immediately fallen into the sheets. Now, Santana lay with her head on Brittany's shoulder, tracing patterns on the dancer's flat stomach, with Sam's words from earlier echoing in her head. _You only get one shot at this. You should stop caring so much about what other people think of you, and make yourself happy for once. _Was she right? If she didn't act soon, would she miss her chance? She sure as hell didn't want another Artie swooping in and taking Brittany from her. She didn't think she could deal with that again. But was she ready to throw all her cards down on the table? She didn't know.

God, this was hard.

Santana shifted, propping herself up on one elbow_. _"Britt?" she said quietly.

"Mm?" Brittany answered, her eyes still closed, enjoying the sensation of Santana's fingers on her skin.

"I have a question."

Santana's tone was much more serious than Brittany had heard it in a while. She opened her eyes and caught the other girl's gaze.

It always blew her away how much love she saw in Santana's eyes. Brittany might not have been the best with numbers, or spelling, or remembering chemical equations, but when it came to feelings, she could read people like books. Especially Santana. She had always been able to read Santana. The Latina tried so hard to hide her emotions, but with Brittany, her eyes always gave her away. They were such a beautiful, deep, dark brown, so expressive and full of life. No matter what Santana was feeling, Brittany could figure it out with one glance into her eyes.

Right now, Santana was scared about something. Brittany took the hand that rested on her stomach and laced their fingers together. She squeezed Santana's hand.

"Do you…" Santana paused. "Do you want…" she tried again.

_Fuck. _She sighed.

_I can't do this. _

So instead of asking the other girl on a date, she said the next thing that came to her mind, "Puck's having a party on Saturday. Do you want to come?"

Brittany said nothing. She knew that wasn't what Santana meant to ask. She gave Santana a sad little smile and the other girl looked away. Eventually the moment passed, and the blonde girl responded. "Yeah, let's go. I get to dance, right?"

Santana smiled. "Of course, Britt. You definitely get to dance."

"Then we should go. It'll be fun."

"Cool." They lay in silence for a while, but Santana hugged Brittany just a little bit tighter. Brittany hugged her back. She knew she was trying.

* * *

The two cheerleaders returned to Santana's later that evening to find Sam sitting at the grand piano the Lopezes had downstairs. Her rendition of "100 Years", however, was abruptly halted by Brittany hug-tackling her off the bench and onto the floor. Sam just lay there, stunned, as the blonde squeezed her tight.

"Uh. Hi, Britt." The cheerleader relinquished her grasp and climbed off the other girl, grabbing her hand and pulling them both to their feet in one fluid motion. She was beaming.

"Hi Sam. I missed you."

Sam chuckled. "I gathered that. I missed you too." She looked over at Santana, who was standing in the doorway looking just as amused as she felt. "So." She said, turning back to Brittany, "Movie night?"

A smile lit up Brittany's face. "Yeah! Can I pick?"

"Of course."

As Brittany headed over to the cabinet to pick a movie, Sam's phone beeped. Santana watched the other girl pull it out of her pocket. As she looked at the screen a dark look came over her face.

"Everything good over there?" Santana asked pointedly.

Sam looked up at her, and immediately plastered a fake smile on her face.

"Yep. All good. Hey Brittany!" she called, catching the blonde's attention. "You want pizza?" The girl's face lit up.

"Totally. Extra pepperoni?"

"Of course." Sam turned to Santana. "I'll assume that whatever she wants is good with you?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "I've been eating extra pepperoni since we were 7. Order the damn thing."

Sam laughed and made a noise and a motion like a whip being cracked. Santana punched her in the shoulder. "Bitch."

Sam was smiling as she replied, "Always. Look, I've gotta run to the bank before it closes anyway, so I'll just go pick up the pizza. I'll see you guys in a bit. Don't start without me."  
Santana narrowed her eyes at this, but said nothing as Sam headed for the door. Whatever Sam was up to, it had to do with that text.

As she joined Brittany on the couch, her hands traveled into the pocket of the hoodie she was wearing, and she felt a slip of paper. It was the same hoodie she had worn to the restaurant to spy on Sam with Quinn. Pulling the paper out, she saw it was the fortune from the cookie she had been playing with.

Opening it, she read: **A friend is in danger. Make sure you arrive before it's too late.**

Well. That was weird as fuck. Whatever. Those things were never right anyway.

* * *

Sam did in fact have to go to the bank that night. Her father had just texted her telling her he needed the money tonight. She was a little worried that if she didn't comply with his requests, he'd show up at Santana's house, and she couldn't deal with that. She'd have to prevent a murder. Maybe two. The easiest thing to do right now was to just give him what he wanted.

* * *

The rest of the week passed in a similar manner for both Santana and Sam. Sam got three more texts from her father, asking for more money each time. Her bank account was running low, and soon she would have nothing left to give him. She shuddered to think what would happen then.

Santana spent every minute with Brittany, coming close a few times to asking the girl on a date. Every time she got close, though, all she could think about were those protesters outside the Berry house, and the look on Kurt's face when he said he needed to transfer, and every slushy she'd ever thrown at a kid. She was too scared. Sure, she could be more openly affectionate with Brittany at home, but only because they weren't in school. The only person who could see them was Sam. _For such a badass, you're a giant pussy sometimes, Lopez._

* * *

The night of Puck's party came around, and Brittany, Santana, and Sam were all getting ready to go. Brittany, who was already dressed in jean shorts and a flowy black top, was currently digging in Sam's closet, and came out holding a pair of tight black jeans and a dark green top that Sam never wore because it showed a lot of cleavage. "You need to wear this tonight, Sam" she stated.

Sam looked up from where she was texting on her bed. Brittany absently noticed that she looked upset about something.

"I dunno, Britt…It's kinda…" she trailed off, searching for an adjective.

"Hot." The blonde finished. "You'll look good in it. Trust me."

Sam still looked skeptical, but at this point Santana walked into the room, dressed in a tight, dark blue dress. She cut in. "You might as well do what she says. She'll hide the rest of your clothes until you agree with her if there's something she wants you to wear."

Sam considered this, and wordlessly held out her hand to take the clothes from Brittany. Brittany smiled, and handed them over. As Sam got up to go change, a piece of paper fell out of her back pocket. The second she left the room, Santana leaned over and picked it up, opening it to see what it said. Her brow furrowed.

"What is it?" Brittany asked.

"It's a bank receipt" she responded. "From today. She took out 700 bucks."

Brittany frowned. "Didn't she go to the bank on Saturday? Why would she need more money?"

Santana nodded. "Yeah. And you know what? She had a hell of a lot of errands to run this week for someone with one job. Actually...I bet…" She looked around the room. Her eyes fell on the trash can. Santana walked over, dumped out the contents and started digging through them. Her efforts yielded 3 more receipts, each for $600. She whistled.

"Home girl's makin' bank…But what the hell does she need 2500 bucks for? She has a car already. She doesn't do drugs…" Brittany and Santana both jumped at the sound of Sam's voice coming back into the room.

"Okay Britt, I'm wearing it, but if I get hit on excessively tonight…" She trailed off at the sight of her overturned trash can, and the receipts in Santana's hand. Her heart jumped into her throat. _Shit. _

"What the hell, Santana?"

Santana, however, was on the offensive. "Yeah. What the hell, Sam? As in what the hell do you need this much money for? Or what the hell did you do with it?"

Sam stepped forward and grabbed for the receipts, but Santana snatched her hand away. "Nope. Not until you tell me what this is for."

Sam rolled her eyes and scoffed, trying to minimize the situation. "Why do you care? It's my money."

"Because that's sketchy as fuck, Sam, and I'm not about to let you get your ass hauled away by the cops if this is something bad."

"It's nothing illegal, Santana. Just leave it alone." She grabbed for the receipts again.

"How bout...no. Sorry."

"Fine." Sam spat. She could feel herself about to unravel. "This is bullshit. I'm leaving." She turned on her heel, and was almost to the door, when Brittany spoke.

"Please, Sam." The girl froze, mid-stride. "I really don't want you be hurting. We just want to help you." Slowly, Sam turned around. She looked up into the girl's wide, blue eyes, and that was it.

She broke.

Sam swallowed the lump in her throat, and began to talk.

"My dad." She said, almost inaudibly.

"What?" Santana exclaimed, stepping forward. Brittany put a hand on her shoulder, and she stepped back again.

"What about your dad, Sam?" Brittany asked.

"He.." her voice was trembling. "He wanted…money. And he said that if I didn't pay him he would come find me."

"Motherfucker!" Santana spat, but Brittany's hand kept her from doing more. Sam kept eye contact with the floor.

"I've been paying him off for a while…at first, I just wanted to see him, I thought he might have changed…I didn't know it would turn into this…" A tear rolled down her cheek. Brittany stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. Sam just stood there for a while, her body trembling. Santana had started pacing.

"I'm gonna kill him. I swear, this time, I'm gonna kill him. Está _muerto._"

Sam finally stepped back. "No. Santana, you can't. He'll hurt you."

"Like hell he will! I'll rip his goddamn head off."

Brittany reached out and touched Santana again. "Sam's right, Santana, you can't just go over there." Santana relaxed slightly. Brittany turned to Sam. "But you can't keep doing this, Sam. Your dad keeps hurting you and it needs to stop. Right now."

Sam was silent for a while. When she finally spoke, her voice was steady. "You're right. Okay." She took a deep breath. "Alright. I'm going to go over there and tell him I never want to see him again. No more."

Santana did not approve of this plan. "Alone? Hell no. I'm going with you."

Sam finally looked at her. "Santana. I appreciate it. I do. But I can't worry about you and him at the same time. This is something I need to do. He hasn't hit me in months. I'll be fine. You guys go to the party, we're already late. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. I promise."

Santana still looked unhappy, but Brittany cut in. "Let her do this, Santana, it's important to her. If she's not there in fifteen minutes then we can follow her."

A pause. "Fine. But fifteen minutes, Pearson. That's all you get."

Sam nodded. With a deep breath, she turned around and headed for the door.

* * *

Exactly 4 minutes later, she was pulling into her old driveway. She could see the lights were on from outside. Taking one last deep breath to steel herself, she knocked on the door. She could hear him shuffling around inside, and finally, the lock clicked and the door opened. He was clearly surprised to see her, although his reaction was somewhat dampened. He'd been drinking. Unconsciously, she took a step back, remaining firmly on the porch. Going inside at this point would be a bad idea.

"Hi."

He just nodded.

"We have to talk."

He gestured for her to enter, but she shook her head. Finally, he just crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. "So talk." He said.

Sam licked her lips. "The money has to stop." He raised an eyebrow. "Actually. All of it has to stop. I can't see you anymore. Ever." He cocked his head at her. Fighting down her nerves, she continued. "_You_ screwed things up. Not me. I'm done getting hurt by you because you're a huge mess. Mom and Mark…that wasn't my fault." Her voice broke. "So I just wanted you to know that I'm done."

He was silent for a long minute. Then he leaned in, his huge frame taking up her vision. "_I _screwed things up? _I screwed things up?" _She could feel his anger beginning to boil. "You little shit, how _dare _you blame this on me? If you hadn't been a little lazy ass motherfucker and gone and gotten your brother like you were supposed to, they would both still be here. And what the hell do you mean, you're done? I'm your father. You're done when I say you're done."

She saw something shift in his eyes; rage was replaced with something like intent. She had seen that look before. She slowly began backing away.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" She turned to run, but he was too fast. He reached out and pulled her back by her arm. She cried out, but he yanked her towards him and dragged her inside. She heard the door slam shut behind them.

_No, please, no._

She couldn't tell if she had screamed it, or thought it, but she was paralyzed with fear. Her father threw her roughly to the ground, and she curled up into a ball.

This couldn't be happening again. _Not again._ She heard a clink as he picked up a beer bottle. "You…worthless…piece…of…shit." He emphasized each word with a rough kick to her body. She whimpered. "Did you think you could just run away and leave your old man behind? Get up." She didn't move. He swung the bottle and it crashed over the side of her head. "Get up!"

Ears ringing, she struggled to her feet. As soon as she was standing, he punched her in the face. She stumbled backwards. He hit her again. Finally, he grabbed her by the front of her shirt and pushed her against the wall. "Look at this little slut's clothing. Tits hanging out... You're not my daughter. No daughter of mine dresses like a whore." Tears were streaming down Sam's face. Her whole body was on fire from the pain; she was fairly certain he had broken a few ribs already.

"You disgust me." He spat in her face.

All of a sudden, Sam got an unexpected surge of courage. This wasn't the man who raised her. This was the man who had made her life hell for a whole year. Who had beat her, kicked her, thrown her down the stairs. Treated her like garbage. She was done. She was done with all of it.

Enough was enough.

Looking him straight in the eye, she gave him a sad smile, tears running down her face. "You know...I used to worship you. You were my daddy. You were my world." She paused. "Now...I'm just ashamed of you. I'm _ashamed_ to be your daughter. _You_ disgust _me_."

For a fleeting second, Sam thought she saw a glimmer of pain and anguish in his eyes.

But then it disappeared into the drunken haze and his jaw tightened.

"We'll see about that" he growled. Picking her up by her shirt, he threw her bodily across the room into the glass coffee table that lay in the corner. As she landed on it, she felt a sharp pain in her side as the table shattered. She cracked her head on the floor and she felt her ears begin to ring again. This time, the ringing wasn't going away. The room started to spin, and her vision slowly got more and more fuzzy. A blackness was creeping in around the edges of her vision, but she could just barely make out her fathers feet as they came towards her. They stopped right in front of her face, and stood there.

Finally, she couldn't fight it anymore, and everything faded to black.

* * *

Meanwhile, at Puck's house, Santana was getting antsy. "Okay, Britt, that's fifteen minutes. Let's go."

"It's only been thirteen, Santana, give her some time."

Santana met Brittany's gaze, and the blonde immediately understood. Santana was leaving. Now. She nodded, and the two girls got up from their position on the couch and pushed their way through the crowd to the front door. Puck's house was packed, and as soon as they had arrived, they had been offered alcohol, but both girls were refusing until they knew Sam was okay.

* * *

Santana made it to Sam's house in under 3 minutes. As she turned the corner onto Sam's street, she narrowly missed being hit by a blue pickup truck that roared past them. As it tore down the street, Santana just barely caught a glimpse of a middle aged man behind the wheel. She looked at Sam's house. The garage door was open. Only Sam's car remained in the driveway. That truck had come from Sam's house.

_Shit._

Santana haphazardly parked along the side of the road and leapt out of the car, running towards Sam's house. She had never been more scared in her life. Brittany was close behind, and as she reached the front door, Santana simply thrust it open.

The inside of the house was chaos. First of all, it was filthy, and clearly hadn't been cleaned since Sam lived there. Secondly, there was broken furniture everywhere, tables overturned, chairs upside down, and in the living room it looked like…

_Sam._

_Oh god._

_Ohgodohgodohgodohgod._

"Britt, call 911!" She screamed, but Brittany was already on it.

"Hi, I need an ambulance at…" Her voice faded into the background. Santana knelt beside Sam's body. Her thoughts were frantic and disjointed. _Is she dead? I have to make sure she's not dead. Aren't there rules about moving injured people? Fuck, there's a lot of blood. Stop the bleeding._ She looked around her, grabbed a blanket off the couch, and pressed it to Sam's side, which was where most of the blood was coming from. A large piece of coffee table was sticking out of her ribs. Santana winced. She took a deep breath and pressed her fingers to the side of Sam's neck. _There's still a pulse. Thank God. I feel like it should be stronger…_

Brittany dropped to her knees by Santana's side. "They're on their way. Four minutes." Santana nodded. She didn't think she could speak at the moment without totally losing it, and she needed to keep it together.

Santana held Sam, Brittany held Santana, and together they just sat there in silence in what Santana was sure were the longest four minutes of her life.

She didn't even hear the ambulance pull up, she was so focused on keeping pressure on Sam's side. Suddenly, there were arms around her, people pulling her away.

_No. I need to stay._

"It's okay, honey. We've got her from here."

Words. People. Blood. Hands.

Brittany's hands.

Brittany.

Santana stood in Brittany's embrace as the paramedics picked Sam up and put her on a stretcher.

"Come on, San. Let's go. We'll follow the ambulance." Santana let Brittany guide her outside to her car and buckle her in to the passenger seat. Brittany walked around to the driver's side, and started the car. As they pulled onto the road to follow the flashing blue lights of the ambulance, Santana just stared out the window.

_This can't be happening._

_It_ can't.

**A/N: So. Yeah. Angsty as all get out. Apologies for the cliff hanger, as well as the absurd length of this chapter. Hope you liked it.**_  
_

**Spanish: Está muerto: He's dead.**

**Drop me a review and let me know what you think!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

Brittany made it to the hospital in record time, pulling the car sharply into a handicapped spot outside the ER entrance, not even slightly concerned about a ticket.

"Santana. Let's go." She said gently. The other girl was still in shock, moving entirely on autopilot as she unbuckled her seatbelt and jumped out of the car.

Brittany took her hand, and together they walked quickly towards the hospital doors. As soon as they were inside, Brittany approached the front desk.

"A friend of ours was just admitted into the ER. Sam Pearson. We need to see a doctor." She said urgently.

The nurse looked up at her from her seat at the desk. "Okay, hang on a sec." She looked at her computer screen, typing in Sam's name. "Are you family?" She asked, once Sam's details had appeared on the screen.

Brittany didn't even hesitate. "Yes." The nurse looked from Brittany to Santana, clearly noting their differences in skin color, but said nothing.

"Okay, well she's in surgery right now. Take a seat, and you'll be notified as soon as we hear anything."

Brittany nodded her thanks, and pulled Santana over to the chairs that sat in the corner. They sat down, and Brittany turned her body to face Santana's. Santana was still frozen, staring at the carpet, arms wrapped around herself. Brittany reached over and took Santana's face between her hands. She didn't say a word, simply leaned in and kissed the girl tenderly on the mouth. When she pulled away, Santana looked up and into her eyes. Brittany took both of her hands in her own.

"What…what was that for?" Santana asked in a broken voice. They were the first words she had spoken since she had screamed at Brittany to call an ambulance.

"I want you to know I love you." Brittany replied. "This is really scary and I know you're so upset you feel like you're gonna throw up. So am I. But I'm here. She's gonna be okay, Santana. She has to be."

Santana shook her head violently. "What if she's not, Britt? What if something happens and it's all my fault because I wasn't there to protect her? What if –" her voice broke and she let out a huge sob. She hadn't cried through the whole experience, but now tears were running down her face and she couldn't stop them. "What if she dies and it's all my fault?"

Brittany took Santana in her arms, letting the other girl cry into her shoulder. She rubbed her back gently and spoke softly into her ear. "Shh, honey. It's not your fault. None of this is your fault. She's gonna be okay. Shh…" She repeated these words over and over until Santana's tears had stopped.

* * *

Fifteen or so minutes later, Santana sat up straight, wiping her face, and said in a choked voice, "I'm gonna go find a bathroom." Brittany looked at her. The other girl was still covered in blood. They both were.

Brittany nodded. "Go get cleaned up. I'm gonna call Quinn." Santana nodded and headed off down a corridor.

Brittany pulled out her phone and dialed Quinn's number. It rang twice.

"Hello?" Quinn's voice came down the line. She had been at Puck's party too, but fortunately she sounded totally sober.

"Q, it's Brittany."

"Brittany, hey. Where'd you and Santana go? I saw you earlier but –"

"We're at the hospital." Brittany cut in. "Sam's dad almost killed her and now we're waiting for her to get out of surgery."

Stunned silence. Then, "Oh my God…Oh my God. Hang on, I'll be right there." She hung up the phone without saying anything further.

For a moment, Brittany contemplated calling the rest of the Glee kids. Sam was well liked by everyone she met, but the Glee kids had all forged a special bond with the girl. They'd definitely want to know. However, right now was not the time. Besides, Quinn would take care of that. What she needed to do right now was find Santana's parents. She sent Santana a quick text before heading into the elevator.

**To: San  
_Going 2 find ur parents. Q's on her way. B back soon._**_ **xo**_

Santana's parents had taught both Brittany and Santana at a very young age where and how to find them in case of an emergency. This, she thought, certainly qualified.

* * *

Quinn hung up with Brittany and immediately grabbed her purse from where it lay on the kitchen counter. On her way into the living room, she ran square into Puck and Rachel, who were chatting about Billy Joel.

"Excuse me," she muttered, pushing past them, but Puck lay a hand on her shoulder. "Woah there, baby mama. You look way too upset for someone at a Puckerman party. What's wrong?"

Ignoring the nickname, she looked straight into his eyes and said, much more calmly than she felt, "Puck, I need to go to the hospital. Sam's in emergency surgery and it's really bad."

His face paled. "W-what? Why? What happened?"

Rachel, similarly, looked at her with wide eyes. "Oh my goodness, Quinn, is she okay? What happened?"

Quinn looked at Rachel, and said "Her father. I really don't have time to talk about this. Brittany and Santana are already there." She turned to go.

Puck spoke up. "We're right behind you."

Quinn turned back to him. "Puck, you've been drinking." He waved her words away with a hand.

"I know; I'm not stupid. I'm gonna clear everyone outta here and get Mike to drive us. He's sober." Quinn nodded and headed towards the front door.

* * *

As soon as she walked into the waiting room, Quinn spotted Santana, hugging her knees to her chest, sitting in a chair in the corner. She hurried over to her friend. As she got closer, she gasped quietly. The front of Santana's dress was covered in blood.

Quinn kneeled down in front of her. "Hey." She said softly. Santana looked up. "Where's Britt?" Quinn asked.

Santana just stared at her for a few seconds, then replied hoarsely, "She went to get my parents."

Quinn nodded, understanding that this was all the response she was going to get from Santana at this point. She took the seat next to the Latina, and grabbed her hand. It was at that moment that the elevator doors opened, and Brittany walked through them, closely followed by Maribel and Carlos Lopez, who were both in long white doctor's coats.

At the sight of her daughter covered in blood, Maribel let out a shriek. "_Ay, mija! Dios mio, que te pasó_? She rushed over and took her daughter in her arms. Santana melted into her embrace. Carlos was less outwardly emotional than his wife, but he still paled at the sight of his daughter.

"Brittany told us what happened," he said, turning to Quinn. "What I don't understand is _how _it happened."

"Her dad's abusive." Quinn replied. "We found out that he was getting drunk and beating her back in December."

"What?!" Carlos exclaimed.

"She was living out of her car so Santana said -" Quinn paused, and glanced at Santana, aware that she still hadn't told her parents about Sam's living arrangements.

"Santana said what?" Maribel asked.

Santana cleared her throat and sat up straighter. "I said she could live with us. We have an extra room and she needed a place to stay."

"So she's been living in our house since December?" Maribel asked.

"Yeah."

Carlos gave his daughter an approving nod and Maribel pulled her back in for a hug. "Oh, _querida_. You did the right thing."

"But if she's living with us, how did this happen?" Carlos asked again.

This time, Brittany piped up. "Sam wanted to fix things with her dad so she called him and asked to have coffee. But all he wanted was money. Santana and I found out that he was using her so we told her it needed to stop. She went to go tell him she couldn't talk to him any more..." Brittany trailed off, guilt etched across her face.

Santana finished her sentence, her voice cracking again. "And he hurt her, mama...he hurt her. So badly. We just left her for fifteen minutes..." Santana too, had to stop mid-sentence as her throat closed up again. Maribel rubbed her daughter's back.

"Oh honey..." she said softly. She touched her finger to Santana's chin and raised it so she could look into her daughter's eyes. Then she reached out, and grabbed Brittany's hand. "Listen, you two. This is not your fault. You were trying to help a friend. You cannot blame yourselves."

Brittany, who had been so strong all night, for Santana, had started to tear up. She nodded at Santana's mother. Santana too, nodded her understanding.

"Now." said Maribel, straightening up once more. "Your father found out that Sam's surgeon is Doctor Alvey. He's a good friend and an excellent surgeon. He's going to do all he can for her, okay?" Santana sniffed and wiped her eyes. She nodded. "Your father and I are going to stay here with you until we hear something." Santana nodded again. She looked up at Brittany, who had silent tears running down her face, and reached out to her. The blonde wordlessly fell onto her lap, where Santana wrapped her arms tightly around Brittany's waist. Carlos and Maribel pulled up chairs, and together, they all sat in silence.

Twenty minutes later, Puck walked through the main doors, closely followed by Rachel, Mike, and Kurt. He looked at the group of people sitting closely together, then turned to Quinn. "I told all the Glee kids. Only Kurt could come but everyone else wants to be updated and they'll be by as soon as they sober up. Any news?" he asked.

She only shook her head. A dark look appeared on the mohawked boy's face. Rachel and Kurt were both very pale, holding each other's hand very tightly. The four new arrivals all sat down to wait.

* * *

Three hours passed. By this point, it was well past 2 in the morning, and although they were all exhausted, no one slept. At one point, Puck, who had been bouncing his knee up and down nervously since he arrived, suddenly stood. "This is bullshit!" he exclaimed, as he headed for the front doors. On his way out, he took a swing at the wall, punching the surface with all his might. Everyone jumped, surprised at his outburst. Mike looked as though he might go after him, but Quinn shook her head and stood.

"I'll go talk to him."

She walked outside to find Puck sitting on the curb, his head in his hands, and his body trembling. Quinn quietly sat down next to him and took his hand. He looked down at their intertwined fingers, noting absently how small her hands seemed in his own. Then he looked at Quinn. She didn't say a word, waiting for him to speak.

When he did, his voice was thick. "It isn't fair."

"I know."

"Sam's like...one of the best people I know. Why did this have to happen to her?"

Quinn shook her head. She didn't have an answer.

"You know," he went on, "it's hard to be a badass all the time. But Sam's always there for me. I can like... talk to her like a bro, but she listens like a girl. I don't have a whole lot of people in my life that I care about, or who care about me." He swallowed. "The closest I actually came to having someone like that...was you."

She offered a sad smile, which he returned.

"Oh honey.." she sighed. "Sometimes I wish things had worked out differently. You know?"

He squeezed her hand. "Yeah. I know."

She put her head on his shoulder, and together, they just sat there in silence until Puck felt ready to go back inside.

* * *

Sometime around 2:30, when Santana thought she could barely take waiting any longer, the elevator doors dinged and a short, balding man wearing a surgeon's scrubs and a mask stepped out. Santana and Brittany immediately stood up, watching the man walk toward them as he removed his mask.

Santana's parents also stood up, Carlos stepping towards the other man and shaking his hand. "What's the news, Jared?"

Santana stepped forward. "How is she?"

The surgeon took a deep breath and began to speak. "Your friend lost a lot of blood. There was a shard of glass about the size of an iPhone impaled in her side. This punctured her right lung. That was our primary concern. In addition, she has 4 broken ribs, along with a broken wrist, nose, and dislocated shoulder." He turned to Santana. "The paramedics told me you put pressure on the wound. That may have saved her life."

Santana's mind was racing. That wasn't the answer she needed. "So is she okay?"

"She's extremely fragile, and we have to see how the rest of the night goes. She's sleeping now. But... I feel almost totally confident that your friend will be just fine."

Santana felt a flood of warmth go through her body.

Sam was going to be okay.

It was all going to be alright.

At Dr. Alvey's words, the group erupted into celebration. Santana's parents shook his hand vigorously, showering him with "thank you"s. Puck let out a happy "Fuck yeah!" and pumped his fist in the air. Rachel and Kurt were sobbing into each other's shoulders. Quinn was smiling so wide Santana thought her face would crack. Brittany had let out a happy squeal and threw herself at Santana.

As for Santana, she wrapped her arms around the blonde and buried her face in the other girl's neck, breathing in the comforting scent and pulling Brittany close. She just stood there in Brittany's arms, allowing herself to bask in the moment. Everything was going to be okay. Sam was going to live.

* * *

At first, Dr. Alvey had firmly stated that "only family is allowed to visit right now. Hospital policy." Carlos took him aside and explained the situation. He eventually relented, turning to Santana to say, "She's in room 3206. You can go see her, but she's still unconscious..."

All Santana heard was Sam's room number and the words, "You can go see her," before she had grabbed Brittany's hand and dragged her into the elevator up to Sam's room.

"3202, 3204..." Santana counted under her breath as they walked down the hallway. Finally, they came to Sam's door. Santana paused with her hand on the doorknob.

"You ready? She's gonna look pretty bad." Brittany asked, squeezing her shoulder. Santana nodded, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

**A/N: A few things about this chapter.**

**Firstly, I know not much has been said about Sam's relationship with the other Glee kids, especially Puck, but the background plot here is that she gets along with the whole club. A couple kids are in some of her classes, and Puck's totally the type to have a hot lezbro to hang out with. Sam can't hang out with Santana all the time.**

**Secondly, I don't necessarily ship Quinn and Puck, but I think he's a really sweet guy so I wanted to give him some emotion. Though feel free to interpret the story however you want.**

**Thirdly, this story's coming to a close. Those of you who reviewed? 50 points to Gryffindor. Or to the house of your choice. Thank you muchly. You also hit the nail on the head in terms of plot concepts; that was where I was heading with this. I have a few more important plot points to write, but we'll see Brittana (and the end of the story) within 2-3 chapters I think. **

**Spanish: Ay, mija! Dios mio, que te pasó?: Oh, honey! My God, what happened to you?  
Querida: My dear**

**So yeah. Review por favor, and stay tuned! :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

Santana slowly pushed open the door to Sam's hospital room, her eyes falling on the bed before her. As the two cheerleaders walked in, hand in hand, she heard Brittany inhale sharply next to her. Keeping her eyes on Sam's feet, she kept walking until she stood right next to the bed. Steeling herself, she looked up to Sam's face.

And it felt like she had been punched in the gut.

Most of Sam's face was covered in dark purple bruises and more than a few cuts. There was a split in her lip and a butterfly bandage across the bridge of her now fixed nose. One eye was swollen shut. She still had dried blood running from her hairline down to her temple.

Santana shifted her gaze.

Sam's neck was similarly bruised, the dark purple marks traveling from her delicate collarbone up to her jaw line. Her shoulder seemed to have been reset, but both arms bore more marks and cuts.

A light blue, hospital issue blanket covered Sam's bottom half, folded back carefully across her hips. Her torso was a mess. It was completely wrapped in bandages, the white linen wound tightly around her chest.

Finally, her gaze fell on Sam's hands. Her left was completely encased in a cast, up to her elbow. The right was curled loosely in a fist by her side. It seemed to be the only part of her that remained untouched by what happened.

This girl, this strong, incredible, beautiful girl. She looked so…broken.

Trying not to break down again, Santana took a deep breath and took Sam's undamaged hand between her own.

"Hey, dumbass" she greeted the sleeping girl in a shaky voice. Try as she might, she couldn't prevent a few tears from rolling down her cheeks. "I fucking told you it was a bad idea. But you're goddamn stubborn, so you had to go see him anyway, didn't you?" Santana shook her head. Brittany squeezed her shoulder. "And then, cause that wasn't enough, you had to go and scare the shit out of me." She squeezed Sam's hand, contemplating her broken body for a while.

Leaning down, she gently kissed Sam's forehead.

As she stood up again, she looked around the room for chairs. Finding some, she walked over to the corner where they stood, and began dragging them over to Sam's bed. Meanwhile, Brittany had taken Sam's hand.

"Hi Sam. I know you can hear me, because you're a unicorn and it doesn't matter if you're awake or asleep…I know you're always listening. I just want you to know that I'm super glad you're okay. You're like the most important person to me besides San, or Quinn, or my family… When we didn't know if you were going to be okay I was really scared, cause I love you and I want you to always be happy and okay. I also want to thank you for being there for Santana. She gets sad sometimes and if it's because of me I can't always help her even if I really want to. So I'm really glad she has you as a best friend. She loves you too, even if she won't say it."

About halfway through Brittany's speech, Santana had stopped her movements with the chairs to listen to the blonde. As Brittany continued with her dialogue, Santana began to smile. Because all of this was just so kind, and so good, and just…Brittany.

Because that was who she was. When the people she loved were in danger of being hurt, Brittany would put aside everything else to make sure they were taken care of. She was selfless, and sweet, and above all, she had an unshakable optimism that infected everyone around her.

The girl in question leaned down and kissed Sam's forehead too, and then turned to face Santana, who was standing behind her, a chair in either hand, with a small smile on her face.

Brittany tilted her head. "What?"

Santana bit her lip. "Nothing. I just…really love you."

Brittany smiled back at her like those were the only words she'd ever wanted to hear.

And that was what did it for Santana.

Because she was tired of being scared.

She was tired of waiting for a moment that was never going to come.

Because if the past 24 hours had taught her anything, it was not to take life for granted.

She wanted Brittany, dammit.

And she was tired of waiting.

Santana looked into Brittany's clear, piercing blue eyes, like she had done so many times before, and smiled. Brittany smiled back. Santana took a deep breath.

"Brittany…this whole thing…" she gestured to Sam's bed and back to the two of them, "has made me realize a few things." She let go of the chairs. "The most important thing, I think, is that I shouldn't take things for granted. Or people. Especially not people." She briefly glanced over to Sam and back again. "Brittany…. You are…the most important person in my life. I love you. I've loved you since the first day of second grade and I love you so much it hurts me to think I might not get to spend the rest of my life with you." Brittany smiled even wider as Santana took her hands and continued. "I know I've been selfish and stupid and afraid these past few months and you've gotten hurt. And I am so, so sorry for that." Brittany gave her hands a reassuring squeeze. "I don't know if I'm ever going to be totally ready for all of this, but after tonight there's no way I can spend the rest of my life waiting for the perfect moment when it might not ever come. So. I was wondering –"

The door swung open and Santana was cut off by the piercing sound of a full-fledged Rachel Berry shriek as she, Quinn, Puck, Kurt, and Santana's parents entered the room, followed by the surgeon.

"Oh my god! How awful! This is terrible!" Rachel exclaimed at the sight of Sam.

Santana closed her eyes, trying hard not to lose her temper at the interruption. "Oh you have _got _to be fucking kidding me." She growled under her breath. Brittany gave her an amused smile and simply squeezed her hand again as she moved to stand by Santana's side. She didn't let go of her hand, however.

Fortunately for the sanity of everyone in the room, Quinn was dealing with Rachel.

"Berry. We're in a hospital. This isn't Broadway. Save the theatrics, please. We're all upset." Rachel opened her mouth to respond, but, seeing the look on Santana's face, decided against it, instead choosing to sit demurely in a nearby chair, crossing her legs.

"As you can see," Dr. Alvey said, "She's still pretty delicate. Her coma isn't medically induced, so until she wakes up, we won't really know."

Santana spoke up. "I'm staying with her."

Dr. Alvey hesitated. "That's not really hospital policy..."

"I don't care about hospital policy. I'm staying with her."

Brittany stepped forward. "Me too."

The surgeon still looked as if he was about to argue when Carlos stepped in. "Jared, I know this is unconventional, but this is somewhat of an unconventional situation, no? Santana and Brittany have been around Maribel and I at work since they were 7. They know the rules. They just want to stay in the room. They'll behave, I promise."

Dr. Alvey considered this a moment and then nodded.

"That's fine. As long as they behave."

Puck spoke up. "Can the rest of us visit? Like during the daytime?"

Dr. Alvey nodded again. "Yes. Visiting hours are 9-9."

"Good. I know all the Glee kids want to come by."

Now turning to Santana's parents, Dr. Alvey said, "Carlos, Maribel, I wish I could stay, but I have other patients to attend to, so I have to go. If you need anything, you know where to find me." Nodding goodnight to everyone else, he turned and left the room.

For the first time that night, Kurt spoke up. "Not to be the friend who commits a faux pas, but now I know Sam's okay, I kind of need to get home. My dad told me to text him when I knew anything and now I do, he wants me back."

Rachel chimed in. "Yes, me too…My fathers want me home as well."

Puck piped up. "I'm staying tonight."

Then Quinn. "Me too."

Mike also spoke, addressing Rachel and Kurt. "I can take you guys home. It's been a long night." Turning to the remaining people in the room, he said, "I'll stop by in the morning. I know Tina wants to come, and I'm sure other people will too. I'll bring them."

Santana nodded her thanks, and, with a few quick goodbyes, the three teenagers left.

"Well," said Maribel. "Our shift ended a few hours ago. Is it okay if your Papi and I go home? We'll of course stay if you want us to, but otherwise, we'll go home and bring you some things in the morning."

Santana smiled weakly at her mother. "It's okay, Mama. We'll be fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay. Quinn, Brittany, I know you've already texted your parents, but we'll stop by your houses on the way home and let them know what's going on."

"Thanks, Maribel."

"Yes, thank you."

"_De nada_. Good night, _niños_." She said, kissing both Brittany and Santana on the cheek, and then, Quinn and Puck. Carlos also gave Brittany and Santana a hug before waving goodbye to Quinn and Puck and following his wife out the door.

There was a spare bed in Sam's room, along with three armchairs. Without another word, Puck pulled two of the armchairs together face to face to make a bed, then flopped into the last chair, which was closest to Sam's bed, and almost immediately closed his eyes. Quinn, with a small smile at Puck's gesture, climbed into the armchair bed and she too, closed her eyes. Brittany and Santana climbed into the bed next to Sam's, Brittany wrapping her long body around Santana's from behind. The brunette nestled back into her warmth, and within fifteen minutes, they had all fallen fast asleep.

**A/N: So. You have my apologies for being a tease. Brittana is coming, I promise. It felt incredibly forced to put it here with everything else that's going on. One more chapter and then an epilogue. Stay tuned (and review)!**

**Spanish: De nada: You're welcome (It's nothing)**

**Niños: Children**


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

The next day was a mad rush of people going in and out. Santana's mother dropped off clean clothes and toothbrushes for Santana and Brittany on her way to work. All the Glee kids stopped by throughout the day, along with Ben, some of the jazz band kids, and a few people from Sam's other classes. News traveled fast in a small town. By 4 o'clock that afternoon, Sam's bed was surrounded with an assortment of flowers, balloons, get well cards, and the odd piece of candy.

Quinn and Puck stayed until 6, when Quinn's mother requested she return home for a bit. She relented, but only after her mother had agreed she could come back the next morning. Puck had agreed to drive her, reluctantly informing Santana, "I've gotta pick my mom up from work and help her out with some stuff. I'll be back later. Even if it's after visiting hours, I'll break in or something. Hang in there, dude." Santana had uncharacteristically given him a hug before he left. All of her walls were broken down at the moment. She was acting entirely on instinct for now.

* * *

After they had been interrupted by Rachel, Santana and Brittany hadn't really had a moment to continue their conversation from the night before, as their day had been filled with people visiting Sam. Once Quinn and Puck left, they were left alone for the first time all day, and they both immediately became very aware that they had left things unfinished between them.

They sat in silence in their chairs for a few minutes, both girls contemplating bringing the subject up once more.

Santana didn't know what to say. It seemed all of her bravery had been used up the night before.

Brittany was the first to speak. "So, I think you were saying something."

Santana blinked. Well. That was quick.

"I was, wasn't I?"

"Yes, definitely." Brittany prompted. "Something about loving me a whole lot." Santana smiled at these words, her fear slipping away once more as she was reminded of just how much she loved this girl.

"Right… I definitely remember now." She slid out of her chair and got on her knees in front of Brittany.

She looked up at the beautiful blonde girl before her, the girl she had loved since she was seven years old, and took a deep breath.

"Brittany Susan Pierce. I _do_ love you a whole lot. You're beautiful, and hilarious, and sweet, and amazing… And you're a goddamn genius." Brittany beamed.

"You're my best friend and I love you more than I've ever loved anyone else… ever. You make me so incredibly happy I can't even stand it. And honestly? I don't want to spend another minute not being your girlfriend. So…what I was _trying_ to ask you yesterday before we got interrupted by the dwarf," Santana rolled her eyes as she spoke. "Brittany Susan Pierce…will you…will you go out with me?" She had a thought. "And maybe go on a date with me, to make it official?"

Brittany's smile lit up her whole face. (Santana thought it lit up the whole room.)

She didn't say a word, just leaned down and kissed Santana, hard. Her hands found the sides of Santana's face, tracing her jawline gently, and then losing themselves in her hair. Santana leaned up into the kiss, smiling as she did so, wrapping her arms around Brittany's neck. The kiss went on and on.

When they parted, breathing heavily, Santana rested her forehead against Brittany's, and smiled up at her shyly. "Uh, so…is that a yes?" She asked.

Brittany smiled softly, and answered, "I'm _so_ proud of you, Santana. Of course it's a yes." Santana grinned and pulled Brittany into a hug. They had only just embraced, however, when Santana heard a cough. And then…

"About fucking time."

Santana stood straight up and whipped around.

Sure enough, Sam was awake, smiling gingerly at the two of them from her bed.

"Sam!" Brittany yelped happily. "I'll get the nurse!" She ran from the room.

Santana couldn't keep the smile from blossoming over her face. First Brittany, now Sam…she didn't think she could handle much more good news. She might explode from happiness.

"Hey, dumbass." She said casually, walking over to Sam.

"So I'm stubborn, huh? Good to know you care, S." The girl joked.

"You heard me, huh?"

"Yeah. Comas are fucking weird."

Santana smiled. It was reassuring to see that the girl hadn't lost her spark.

Not even a full minute later, the door was thrown open, Brittany bounding into the room, followed by the nurse, and what looked like two…_police officers_? The nurse moved immediately to Sam's bed, and began checking her vital signs. The police officers, a man and a woman, stood off to the side until she had finished, and then they too, approached the bed. Santana was about to ask, in typical Santana fashion, just exactly who the hell were these cops and what were they doing interrupting her reunion with Sam, when the nurse spoke up. "Sam? This is Officer Patterson and Officer Riley. They need to speak to you."

Sam, however, seemed to know the man, giving him a nod. "Hey Dave."

"Hey, Sam. We've been at the nurses' station since this morning, waiting for you to wake up. Now that you have, Officer Riley and I really do need to talk to you about last night."  
A look of fear and pain flashed across Sam's face at his words, and that was all it took for Santana's protective streak to kick in.

"Look, officer. I know you need to do your rent-a-cop routine in order to feel good about yourself. I get it. Being a cop in Lima must not be that rewarding. This is probably the most exciting thing that's going to happen to you all year, in fact. But my girl Sam here has been through more in the past 24 hours than anyone should go through in a lifetime, and I cannot stress enough the words "Handle. With. Care". You ask her only what you need to get your statement, and nothing else. If I found out you made her unnecessarily uncomfortable, I'll make up a police harassment claim so fast it'll make your head spin, got it?"

The police officer looked distinctly uncomfortable and taken aback by Santana's outburst. Brittany shook her head, and Sam bit her lip in an effort to contain her laughter. Dave Patterson had been on the force with her father. He was a decent cop, but he definitely took himself too seriously at times, and it was nice to see Santana take him down a few pegs.

"Uh. Yeah. Sure." He replied.

"Good." She turned to Sam. "You need anything, we're right outside. C'mon, Britt." The two cheerleaders linked pinkies, and walked out the door, followed by the nurse. The door closed quietly behind them.

* * *

"So." Sam said slowly. "What do you need to know?"

The two police officers glanced at each other.

"What?" Sam asked.

Dave looked at her. "Well…we didn't really come here just to ask you questions…"

"Okay… So what are you here for?"

They glanced at each other again, and then Officer Riley stepped forward. "Sam…last night, we were called to the scene of a car accident. The driver was drunk, and he spun off the road and hit a tree…he was killed on impact."

"Okay…so…?"

"It…it was your father, Sam."

Sam froze. _What?_

"We spoke to your surgeon who told us about the…unfortunate events of last night. We think he was fleeing the scene."

Sam's head started to spin. Her father was dead? This couldn't be true.

"When?" she croaked out.

"We're pretty sure time of death was right after he left your house. The crash site was on Miller Road."

Sam felt like she had been slapped in the face. Miller Road was only a few blocks from her house. She was back in the hospital, just like she had been a year ago, hearing that her mom and Mark were gone forever.

She didn't know what to say. Or how to feel. So instead she chose to focus on the facts.

"O-Okay... So… I guess there's no need to press charges, then, huh?"

The cops glanced at each other again. Sam felt like rolling her eyes. "What is it _now?"_

Dave cleared his throat. "Uh, well, the thing is, Sam…what happened to you…was a very unfortunate…incident. But the fact that your father was a cop is a bit of a problem. If news of this gets out, it could cause a lot of trouble for our force, and…well…we really can't afford that."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "So…." She prompted.

Dave glanced at his partner, who gave him an encouraging look. "So…we're going to ask you not to go public with this information. Don't tell anyone more than is absolutely necessary about what happened. We actually have some confidentiality papers we'd like for you to sign, saying you won't go to the press or anything similar."

Sam just stared at him. _Was this guy serious? _Everything she'd been through in the past day, in the past year; everything her father had put her through, and they were worried about his _reputation_?

"You've got to be kidding me." Santana's voice came from the doorway, echoing Sam's own thoughts. The three of them looked up at her.

"Excuse me?" Officer Riley said.

Santana waved a hand at her dismissively. "So I eavesdropped. Sue me." Walking in, she was followed by Brittany, Carlos and Maribel. "You're telling me that after everything her piece of shit father put her through, you're going to protect _him_? Not _her_?"

It was a mark of how equally outraged Santana's parents were that they didn't admonish her for swearing. Maribel stepped forward. "Really, officer. It seems incredibly unjust that you would work to protect the reputation of a man who couldn't even take care of his own daughter."

Both officers looked extremely uncomfortable now. However, Dave was attempting to stick to his guns. "We have a job to do, Mrs. Lopez, and if people don't respect the police, that job becomes much harder."

Carlos cut in. "Maybe if members of the police force didn't _beat_ their own daughters, there would be more to respect." he said angrily.

"Hey look –" Dave started to say, but Sam cut in.

"Guys." Everyone turned their attention to the girl in the bed. "Much though I appreciate this debate on my behalf, it's kinda pointless. Everyone who came to visit me knows what happened anyway. But yes," she said, turning to the two police officers, "I will sign your stupid form. And so will they." She nodded towards the Lopezes and Brittany.

Santana objected. "I'm not signing anything! This is bullshit, Sam, and you know it."

Before she could go further, however, Sam held up her non-injured hand. "Santana. Calm down. I'm not finished." She turned back to the police officers. "Now. I'm 17. Legally, I can't really be emancipated from my parents, because I no longer have any. However, I can't live on my own, is that correct?"

The cops nodded.

"Okay. I have one more year of high school, and there's only five months until I turn 18 anyway. As you can imagine, I'm not super thrilled about the idea of going off to Columbus to live in an orphanage for five months. If we all sign your forms, then you get to do _me_ a favor. I need you to overlook the fact that I'm 17, and let me live on my own until I'm legal."

Dave hesitantly opened his mouth to respond, looking distinctly like he was about to argue, but Carlos cut in. "Don't be ridiculous." Everyone turned to look at him.

"Papi?"

"Carlos?"

He looked straight at Sam. "Sam's been living with us for the past 6 months. She'll just continue living at our house."

"Sir, she really can't live with you unless you're her legal guardian" Officer Riley said.

"So we'll adopt her." He didn't even blink. Maribel smiled and took her husband's hand. Brittany smiled and took Santana's. Sam and Santana just stared at Carlos, looking shocked. He continued, this time addressing Sam. "Sam, I obviously don't know you all that well. But I can tell my daughter cares about you very much. Maribel and I are away a lot, so we're incredibly glad Santana found someone to keep her company these past few months. No father wants his daughter to be lonely, and because of that, I'm incredibly grateful to you. I would be honored if you would become part of our family."

Sam didn't know what to say. Her own father had clearly been a huge disappointment, yet here was this wonderful man, this wonderful father, protecting her as if she were his own daughter. She took a shaky breath.

"I – I don't know what to say."

"Say yes." This time, Santana spoke. She was looking at Sam now with a small smile on her face. Then she shrugged and said nonchalantly, "I mean, you might as well. It'll be a pain in the ass to get all your stuff moved out again anyway."

Her words were casual, but Sam understood what she was trying to say.

She looked at Carlos. "I'd love to."

"Wonderful." He turned to the police officers. "Well, I think that covers everything, don't you? I believe you have some paperwork for my wife and I?"

Dave stuttered, "Uh, y-yeah. I guess so. This way sir. C'mon Riley."

Carlos winked at Sam and she grinned as he followed the cops out the door with his wife.

* * *

Sam looked at Brittany and Santana, and then said with a faux sorority girl peppiness, "Oh Em Gee…I'm so excited. We're roomies! Like, for good!"

Santana rolled her eyes. "Not if you talk like that we're not."

Sam smiled. She seemed to think for a moment, and then spoke again, this time in a much more solemn voice. "I could feel you there, you know. At the house?"  
Santana's smile disappeared, replaced by a pained look.

She swallowed. "Oh yeah?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. I like… I heard you screaming….you sounded really far away, and I wanted to go help you, but I couldn't move. And then you were there…" She trailed off. "It was really weird. Like I couldn't see you. Or hear you. But I felt you there. And then…" Her brow furrowed. "And then I don't remember a whole lot. The middle's kind of fuzzy. But then I heard voices. You, Brittany…Rachel, I think? Quinn…Puck…other people too. It was like listening to a radio with really shitty reception, you know?  
But then, I could hear you and Britt. Like really clearly. You were telling her you loved her… Santana Lopez sharing her feelings is clearly a sign of the apocalypse, so I obviously had to see it for myself. And then I did. So here I am."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Smartass." The frown returned to her face. Quietly, she said, "I _was_ there…we found you. Britt and I. It was…really bad. You were just laying there…there was so much blood…" Her voice broke.

"Hey." Sam interrupted. "I'm here now, okay? I'm alright."

Santana inhaled deeply, composing herself, as Brittany held her hand tighter. She nodded. Finally, she gave Sam a half smile and said, "You'd better be alright, asshole, cause I'm sure as _hell_ not going through all that again."

Sam smiled back. "Fair deal."

Brittany spoke up. "I'm sorry about your dad, Sam. I know he wasn't a good person, but he was still your dad."

A sad look passed over Sam's face. When she spoke, her words were careful and measured. "Thanks, Britt. I'm not really sure how I feel about it, you know? On the one hand, you're right… He was awful to me. And I don't think even if he was alive I could ever forgive him for that. But you know what else? Right before he threw me into that coffee table… I saw something. Just for a second, he looked…sad. And tired…and beaten. Maybe my real dad was in there somewhere. I think that's the part of him I want to remember. The part that loved me."

The room was silent. Santana, for all of her snide comments regarding Sam's father, for once had nothing to say.

* * *

Carlos and Maribel returned about 20 minutes later to inform everyone that things with the police had all been taken care of. Sam was officially part of the family.

"It's a good thing that cop listened to you dear" Maribel commented, as they all sat around Sam's bed. "I was about to have to teach him a thing or two. _Nobody_ messes with _this_ family." She crossed her arms and swerved her head as she said this.

"Mami…" Santana groaned, covering her eyes. "Don't act like that. It's embarrassing."

"Um, excuse you?" Sam piped up. "That is _exactly_ what _you_ do. All the time." Turning to Brittany, she stage whispered, "It's gotta be a Lopez thing." Brittany grinned.

"Oh please," Santana objected. "You _are_ a Lopez. You were a Lopez before all this shit happened. You don't get to use that line."

"Santana, language!"

"_Lo siento_, Mami."

Sam couldn't resist. "Look who's big and bad now, Santana. Shut down by Mama Lopez."

"Oh shut up, cripple. No one asked you."

As they all laughed, Sam allowed herself a moment of reflection. She was so incredibly lucky. Not only had she managed to get through everything that had happened, but she had people who loved her, and who looked out for her. Though, she supposed, the two were directly related. She couldn't have gotten this far without Santana, and Brittany, and all of her other wonderful friends. From this point on, a new chapter in her life was starting. And she couldn't wait for it to begin.

* * *

Santana noticed Sam zoning out as conversation resumed around them. She let the words wash over her as she took her own minute to think. It had certainly been a crazy year.

If you had told her in October that she would gain a sister and a girlfriend all in one day, she would have laughed right in your face. And then had you slushied for suggesting she was gay.

When they went back to school in September, she knew things would change. New problems and new drama would arrive. But she wasn't worried. She now had two people in her life that she knew would be there forever. With their help, she could make it through.

Especially now that she was with Brittany. With all of the drama that had happened in the past 24 hours, she hadn't really gotten a moment to think about the fact that she was _dating_ Brittany Pierce.

_I'm dating Brittany._

_And she's dating me._

Finally, after all of the stress, and the heartbreak, and the jealousy, she could call the girl that she loved, hers.

She didn't think she could have made it through the past 24 hours without Brittany by her side. The girl was really a walking, talking (dancing) miracle.

She was staring at the girl in question pretty intently, and Brittany could obviously feel her gaze, because she looked up at Santana. Even that brief connection made Santana's heart pound. Brittany smiled at her softly, like she knew what Santana was thinking. She was thinking the exact same thing.

They were made for each other.

And now that they were together, they would never let each other go.

And that, thought Santana, was exactly how it should be.

**A/N: And they lived happily ever after.**

**Just kidding. But for real though, an epilogue is coming to wrap things up nicely. I seem to be in a writing mood so it'll come soon.**  
**So this isn't the last chapter, but I want to thank everybody who's stuck with this story from the beginning, and the people who just found it and thought they'd give it a shot. I've had quite a lot of fun writing it.**

**Review!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.**

Sam stayed in the hospital another week. True to his word, Puck broke in every night and sat with Santana and Brittany at her bedside. ("Puck, you _are_ aware that there are visiting hours, right? Which you don't use?" "Nah, visiting hours are for pussies.")

Quinn was also there as often as she could manage, often bringing with her some of the other Glee kids.

At the end of the week, the entire Lopez family (including Brittany) helped move Sam back into her old bedroom next to Santana's. ("_Niñas_, I can't believe I didn't notice anyone was living in here. It looks so nice!" "Thanks, Maribel.")

Sam spent the rest of the summer healing and putting herself back together. The day before school started, she was in perfect physical condition. The only visible sign that remained of what had happened was a jagged 6 inch scar down the side of her ribs. Both Puck and Santana had immediately deemed the scar to be appropriately badass.

* * *

In the year or so that followed, some nights, Sam would still wake up screaming. When this happened, Santana would rush into her room and hold her, wordlessly, until she fell asleep again. Sometimes Brittany would be over and she would climb into bed on Sam's other side, and they would all lie there till morning came. They never talked about what happened. It was too traumatic for all of them. Gradually, it became a sort of distant pain that they dealt with. By the end of college, the nightmares had stopped, and Sam was sleeping peacefully every night.

* * *

Just as Santana had predicted, the start of senior year brought with it a whole new set of drama. Santana managed to get kicked out of Glee club within the first few weeks of school for doing Sylvester's bidding. Sam rolled her eyes when she heard, but said nothing about it at home.

Even though Santana had then joined another glee club (with Brittany, Mercedes, and Sugar) where she got more solos and more attention, Sam could tell she was still pissed about Schue's decision. Sam didn't push it. Santana would come around.

Unfortunately, this decision happened around the same time Brittany got a foreign exchange student from Ireland. Not only was the boy sleeping in the room right next to Brittany's, but he had developed a bit of an obvious crush on her as well.

Santana was not amused.

It just so happened to be that, when Santana was upset, Santana got mean, and this time, her chosen target ended up being Finn. While Sam was normally all for a good Finn-bashing, (for some reason the kid just irritated her) she could tell that the tall boy was going to snap under the worse than usual abuse. Sam warned Santana to lay off. ("Finnept? The worst thing he could do to me would be to sit on me and crush me with his flabby man boobs.")

He managed to prove Santana wrong, however, when he outed her to the whole school in the middle of the hallway one afternoon. The daughter of a local politician heard him, and, unfortunately for Santana, decided to use the information to help her daddy's campaign against his rival, Sue Sylvester. The local TV station almost immediately aired a spot questioning why Sylvester would dare to allow a lesbian on her cheer squad. (_Again_, Sam thought. _Welcome to Ohio_.)

Santana was mortified when she found out. She slapped Finn square across the face.

She hadn't even told her parents yet.

Of course, because this was McKinley, and punishments were rarely given fairly, Santana soon faced suspension for assaulting another student. Finn, seeing an opportunity, agreed to say it was an accident if she came back to Glee club for a day so everyone could show her how much she meant to them. ("Like I need the approval of those losers.")

She came back anyway.

* * *

While Brittany and Sam were both furious with Finn for outing Santana before she was ready, (Sam didn't think Brittany could even _get_ that mad.) they did approve of his idea to help Santana accept herself. The two girls didn't perform anything for Santana in Glee club, but they were both there when she decided to come out to her parents. ("I kind of fucking _have_ to now, don't I?")

Both Carlos and Maribel just smiled at their daughter when she told them. ("Oh, _mija_. You've been in love with Brittany since you were seven years old. We just want you to be happy.")

The look of wonder on Santana's face for the rest of the night was something both Brittany and Sam would never forget.

* * *

The next day, when she came out to her grandmother, and came home crying, Sam immediately called Brittany to come over. The blonde just held Santana until she fell asleep in her arms. Sam covered them both with a blanket.

None of them ever mentioned that night again.

* * *

By Valentine's Day, Santana was out and proud. She had a singing valentine delivered to Brittany at school. When they kissed at the dance Sugar had organized for that night, Sam didn't think she'd ever seen her friend so completely happy.

* * *

By March, most of McKinley was struggling to figure out where they wanted to go to college, a dramatic situation in itself.

Rachel and Kurt obviously had their NYADA auditions. Because they were both giant divas, as stressed out and dramatic as they became about the process, the entire Glee club was forced to hear about it every day. (Santana, Brittany, and the other girls who had quit Glee rejoined shortly after Sectionals. Santana threatened Rachel's life on a daily basis during the NYADA audition period.)

While Sam and Quinn had both applied to colleges early, and had figured out that they were going to Columbia and Yale respectively, Santana had no idea what she was going to do.

And apparently Brittany was failing. She wouldn't graduate. Santana had flipped when she found out. ("Britt, why the hell didn't you tell me? I could've helped, we could've _done_ something…" "You had enough to worry about this year, Santana. It's okay. I promise.")

Sam was also upset at the prospect of leaving the blonde behind. ("We're gonna Skype all the time, okay Britt? You, me, and Tubbs." "Definitely.")

* * *

After a little help from Glee, Brittany, and Sam (who refused to stop pestering Santana until she got her shit together), Santana accepted a cheerleading scholarship from the University of Louisville. It wasn't really where she wanted to be, but at least she could visit Brittany on a semi-regular basis.

* * *

Graduation was exactly the sad-happy moment Sam thought it would be. The Lopezes threw a party for her and Santana, and although she pretty much thought of Carlos and Maribel as her parents by that point, she couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like to see her own parents' faces smiling back at her from the crowd as she walked across the stage.

* * *

Santana still didn't really like to talk about her feelings if she could help it. Instead of talking about how much she was going to miss her friends, she just spent as much time with them as possible before she no longer could. Brittany came over every day that summer.

* * *

The first few months of college were the hardest. Santana forgot how much she liked having Sam around, and without Brittany, she was absolutely miserable. Kentucky sucked. It was even more Conservative than Ohio. And she wasn't able to sing. She had no time. She barely had time to talk to Brittany, which was a problem in itself.

Sam ended up moving in with Kurt and Rachel in Bushwick, and while she really liked having them as roommates, there was just way too much diva in one apartment for her to handle sometimes. She missed Santana. And Brittany.

Sam knew how busy Santana was, so instead of talking on the phone or texting, they left each other long, rambling voice mails every day or so. It helped them not miss each other so much.

* * *

Brittany and Santana broke up a few months into the first semester. Santana said that everything was just too hard.

She called Sam in tears that afternoon.

When Brittany walked out of Cheerios practice the next day, Sam was waiting for her in the school parking lot, leaning against her car and spinning her keys on her finger. Brittany was ecstatic. Even though people could forget it sometimes, Brittany was just as delicate as Santana was.

Maybe, Sam thought as she took Brittany out for ice cream and a movie, that was why they worked so well. They protected each other.

* * *

Sam knew that Santana wouldn't want to be babied post-breakup, so instead she sent her a care package, full of movies and junk food and a note that simply said, _"Come visit me in New York, asshole. I can't deal with Rachel and Kurt all by myself."_ It made Santana smile. And when she had a long weekend, she did.

She felt strangely like that was where she belonged.

* * *

Before the year was through, Santana had moved into the apartment with Rachel, Sam, and Kurt, and was wreaking her own special brand of havoc on the city of New York.

Rachel and Kurt didn't know what to do with the prospect of Santana Lopez living with them. When they had vocalized this fear, Sam had simply shrugged and said, "I survived okay."

It was good to have her around again.

* * *

Brittany ended up getting a perfect SAT score. Sam wasn't even a little bit shocked. The girl was full of surprises. Santana pretended to be indifferent when Sam told her, but a proud smile made its way to her face anyway. This score got her early admission to MIT, where they told her she was the "most brilliant mathematical mind of the century". Brittany just shrugged. She _was_ brilliant and she knew it.

She would have sessions with MIT professors 4 days a week, and in her spare time, she danced with a studio in Boston. Sam kept inviting her to visit the apartment in Bushwick, and one weekend, she did.

After some scheming, Sam, Rachel, and Kurt ditched the two former cheerleaders for the first few hours of Brittany's trip, forcing the two girls to spend time alone together. ("Are you fucking kidding me, Sam? Why did you invite her here? I'm trying to move on." "So don't move on. Rachel, Kurt and I are going to see a play. You should give her the tour of the apartment. Ciao."), and by the end of the weekend, they were back together. Again, Sam wasn't surprised. They were meant to be.

* * *

The next 4 years flew by in a similar fashion. Kurt and Rachel both excelled at NYADA. Rachel landing the role of Fanny Bryce in Funny Girl propelled her to stardom freshman year, but she continued attending school. Her friends kept her grounded. Especially Santana, who refused "to take shit from some singing dwarf who thinks she can tell _me_ what to do just cause she's famous."

Santana ended up being discovered by a fairly prominent record producer after she sang in a bar one night. By senior year, she had an album coming out and was on her way to becoming the next big thing.

* * *

Brittany was similarly discovered by a world famous dance troupe that did shows in New York City on a regular basis. This kept her close to Santana and the rest of her friends, which was good. They all went to see her recitals when they had a chance. Santana never missed one.

She graduated from MIT with a degree in thermonuclear physics, which she had decided would be her major sophomore year, after hearing that the chair of the department's name was James Tubbington. Her unique insights made her a core part of the department for the next 3 years, and while she wanted to only pursue dance after graduating, MIT said they would welcome her back at any time.

* * *

Sam graduated magna cum laude from Columbia with a degree in psychology. She then went on to get her Master's there. She wanted to work with troubled teens, and teens who had been abused. She joined a jazz quartet her junior year, and they too became locally very well known.

After graduation, Sam got her own place in the Bronx. Santana and Brittany moved into a house several blocks over a few weeks later. Rachel and Kurt remained in Manhattan, where they were eventually joined by Quinn, who, after a rough start at Yale trying to figure out who she was and what she wanted to do, decided to go to Columbia for Law school. She wanted to specialize in custody cases.

As they matured, she and Santana became less hostile towards each other, and their friendship became much stronger.

* * *

Sam dated a girl through the last two years of college. Her name was Courtney. While she was nice enough, she didn't get along with Santana _at all_, which caused problems.

It also caused Santana to want to do a bit of digging into the girl's life, and she soon found out that Courtney had been lying about almost everything she told Sam. A furious Santana confronted her, only to have Courtney sneer in her face and order her to tell Sam that "it was just a stupid fling. Just for fun. I'm not gay."

Brittany had had to actively keep Santana from killing her, while at the same time comforting a heartbroken Sam.

* * *

A few weeks after her 22nd birthday, Sam was at a Columbia open house with Quinn. She had gone on a quest to find one of her professors, and, not paying attention to where she was going, ran face first into a gorgeous young Indian woman. Her name was Tala, and she was originally from Delhi, but had been studying at Oxford for the past 3 years. She was studying abroad at Columbia that semester. The two women hit it off almost immediately, and began seeing each other.

The first time Tala met Brittany and Santana, she entered the room just as Brittany was expressing a desire to watch Toy Story. Instead of rolling her eyes like Courtney had at Brittany's eccentricities, Tala piped up that that was in fact her favorite movie. Brittany had immediately hugged the girl, who had smiled and hugged her back good naturedly. Santana caught Sam's eye at this and nodded approvingly.

* * *

Brittany and Santana got married the summer before they all turned 25. Santana had been lying in bed with Brittany one night, their bodies intertwined under the covers, when Santana simply turned to Brittany and whispered, "Marry Me?" Brittany had responded quite enthusiastically.

Sam was Santana's best man, Quinn was Brittany's maid of honor. All of the Glee kids showed up. All four parents were beaming with happiness.

* * *

Sam and Tala followed a few months later.

After they had been dating for six months, Tala had had to move back to England. They spent six unhappy months apart before Tala decided she wanted to move to New York. From the moment she moved in with Sam, things had gone smoothly, and, 3 years later, Sam popped the question.

Santana was Sam's best man. She approved wholeheartedly of Tala. The two of them got along incredibly well. Brittany, Quinn, Rachel, Kurt, and Puck, (who by this point was also living in the city writing movie scripts), all came to the wedding. As she watched her friend slide the ring onto Tala's finger, Santana reflected just how far Sam had come. How far they all had come, really. She looked over at Brittany sitting in the front row and winked. Brittany winked right back.

* * *

The next few years brought kids (Brittany and Santana ended up with 3; Sam and Tala, 4), and careers, and all the dramatic surprises that life presents from time to time.

School trips. Playground spills. Christmas dinners. Winter flus.

Both sets of children were just as inseparable as their parents. The close proximity of the two houses and the frequency with which the adults visited one another led to one large, incredibly tight knit family. (Everyone had two sets of keys, and two houses. Knocking was never an occurrence.)

* * *

One afternoon, it was homework time at the Lopez-Pierce house. Sam and Santana typically watched the kids after school until Brittany and Tala, who tended to work late, got home. Santana's oldest son, Carlos, was arguing with Sam's twin boys, Jake and Justin. All three boys were 8 years old, and normally got along very well. They were all in the same class at school.

"He's weird!"

"No he's not!"

"Yes he is!"

"Shut up, Carlos, you're stupid!"

"You're stupid!"

"Don't call him stupid!"

Santana cut in. "Hey, hey, hey. _Cállate_. All of you. We don't call each other stupid."

Sam came into the dining room, having heard the noise. "Or weird. Who are you even talking about?"

One of the twins, Jake, looked at his mother with an indignant expression. "There's a kid in our grade, Spencer, and Carlos says he's weird."

Justin cut in. "Yeah. And he's not weird. Carlos just doesn't like him cause he's clumsy and he keeps knocking Carlos' books all over the floor."

"But it's not his fault, Mama." Jake said again. "He's got crutches and he walks funny cause he's sick. He can't help it. And he always lets me and Justin trade him his Oreos for our chips." The young boy glared at Carlos. Carlos just crossed his arms and glared right back.

Sam tried not to smile at how remarkably like Santana Carlos looked at the moment. She looked at her friend. "This is all you, madam." She sat down in a chair, pulling Carlos into her lap.

Santana ran her fingers through her hair and made a face at Sam. "Traitor." She turned to the three boys, who were all looking to her intently for an explanation. She started with her son. "Carlos. I know it's annoying when someone knocks your books on the floor."

She gave Sam a pointed look. Sam just grinned. Santana continued. "But Jake's right. It's not his fault. Some people are just born different, and they can't help it."

"But mama, he's weird. He never talks to anyone and he doesn't answer questions and I think he's stupid."

There was a noise from the doorway, and they all looked up to see Brittany standing there. She had just returned from dance practice. She was looking intently at her son.

"You know something, _mijo_?" Brittany said. The boy shook his head.

"When I was in high school, people thought I was dumb." Sam arched an eyebrow, but said nothing. Santana looked unhappy.

Carlos tilted his head as he regarded his mother. "But mommy, you're so smart."

She smiled at him. "Thank you, baby, but they didn't know that. Imagine you heard someone was calling me stupid. How would you feel?"

Little Carlos furrowed his brow. "I would kick their butts."

Jake and Justin piped up in unison, "Me too."

Brittany smiled at all three boys. "Thank you, boys." She turned back to Carlos. "So you'd be upset cause you know me and you know I'm not stupid. Or weird. That's what the twins were trying to say. They know Spencer, and they know he's not weird. Just different. And different's okay. Do you understand?"

The boy nodded bashfully. "Sorry mommy."

"It's okay, sweetie. Now, apologize to each other and go play outside." She said, moving to stand behind Santana and wrapping her arms loosely around her wife's waist.

"Sorry Jake, sorry Justin."

"That's okay. Sorry Carlos."

"Yeah, sorry, Carlos."

Carlos turned his head to look at Sam. "Aunt Sam, will you play basketball with us? We need even teams."

Sam tapped a finger against her chin, pretending to think about it. Then she looked down at him and smiled, saying, "Absolutely. C'mon. I call captain!"

She picked up Carlos and swung him over her shoulder, as he giggled in delight. Both her sons jumped up from where they sat on the floor, yelling, "No fair! I wanna be captain!"

"No! Me!"

Sam headed towards the door, Carlos still hanging off her shoulder, as she called out, "First one to the basketball hoop gets to be captain!"

The boys raced after her.

* * *

As Santana watched her friend head out the door with her son and the two twins, she leaned back into Brittany's embrace. Brittany kissed her neck lightly. This, she thought, was where she belonged. She was so incredibly lucky to have these people in her life.

She had come such a long way from that angry, scared girl that she had been in high school, who could only lash out at the people around her and never let anyone in. She now had the best friends anyone could ask for, three beautiful little children, (well, seven, really) and a wife whom she loved more than she ever knew it was possible to love someone.

She sighed contentedly. If she never had to move from this exact moment, she would be happy.

* * *

Her thoughts were slowly interrupted, however, by the realization that Brittany was still kissing her neck. And her kisses were getting more and more heated.

Brittany's hands slipped from her waist as she hooked her thumbs into Santana's belt loops, pulling her body against her.

"Upstairs. Now." Brittany breathed in her ear.

Santana grabbed Brittany's wrist and practically sprinted for the stairs.

Thinking could wait. She had more important things to do at the moment. She could ponder life later.

**A/N: Spanish: Cállate: Be quiet!**

**And that's a wrap, folks! So, I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I appreciate anyone and everyone who took the time to check it out, especially those of you that made it all the way through. I'm already mulling over some new story ideas, so keep an eye out for them.**  
**Feel free to leave me your final thoughts on this story.**  
** Catch you on the flip side!**


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